The World At Arm's Length
by Malquoria
Summary: What happens when someone loses everyone closest to him, and decides enough is enough? Where does it leaves his friends, who refuse to accept that? Where does an international criminal come in and just how dangerous can he be? Over twenty years after Deathly Hallows.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

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Chapter 1  
The Setup

The blinding summer sunlight woke Harry up early that morning. He tried to go back to sleep after seeing the time on the alarm clock, there were _hours_ before he or his wife had to pick up the kids from King's Cross, but the light was way too bright. It felt like it was noon, when it was definitely not, with the light finding gaps on the curtains to enter the room. And worse, Harry was too tired to get up to shut the curtains, even if he did get up to do so, he'd have woken up sufficiently in the cool air without his warm blankey to be able to go back to sleep soon.

A catch-22 of annoying proportions. His wife, bless her, never knew how that felt. Harry could swear she could sleep through a stampede of hippogriffs.

Harry leaned forward to pick up his glasses from the table and then lifted the blankets to get off the bed, when he suddenly found himself unable to move as his arm was being pulled back.

"Don't...you...dare," said a tired, irritated, voice beside him, "get off this bed."

Harry grinned. There was one thing that would wake his wife up quick.

"I'm not tired anymore," he said innocently. "I'm going to have breakfast and watch the news."

Her leg wrapped around his waist, preventing him to move at all now, and she quickly climbed on top of him.

"You're going nowhere, mister," she said as she pinned his arms back. Not that he was resisting, mind you.

"Don't you think we should brush our teeth first?" asked Harry.

"No time," she said, leaning to the side to pick up her wand. "We don't have to do _everything_ muggle-style."

With a quick wave in front of Harry's mouth, he felt his mouth clean instantly and he watched her do the same with her to herself. He made a mental note to brush his teeth afterward as this was merely a temporary spell. And a bad habit... why on earth was he thinking of dental hygiene at this moment of time?

Harry waited for his wife to lean forward, knowing her style to use speech as the first move in her many, many, talents. And without fail, her hair fell around his face as she positioned her lips to slowly brush his ears and she whispered ever so softly in them. Harry did not only say a word as she continued to blow into his ear as she spoke, and he relaxed even more into the bed, shutting his eyes to the room and the world. Nothing else mattered. He let out a low, guttural moan.

"Gin," he began, and then got interrupted by something else she said, and then finished, "_ny_!"

"Hold hard to your broomstick, Seeker," she whispered. "I'm going to charm you again, and again, and again, and _again_."

Harry could only mumble at that.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX**

Three hours later, Harry stood at the shower as water gushed all over him. He stood there, not moving, one reason because his right leg was sore and he thought he must've pulled a muscle. He also let the warm water continue to pound his his body as he enjoyed listening to the silence broken by the gushing water. He let out a sigh thinking that this wasn't even the highlight of his day. He couldn't wait to stand in anticipation at King's Cross with all the other parents, holding Ginny's hand as she squeezed hard while they waited for Lily, Albus and James.

His heart ached out for his kids, and he knew Ginny felt even more on their absence.

He was deep in thought and wasn't aware of another presence nearby until the shower door was wrenched open. He yelped in surprise and calmed down after a few seconds of realising it was Ginny. He groaned at the grin on her face.

"Bloody hell, woman," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "_Again_?!"

"We're not going to get the chance to feel this uninhibited for the rest of the summer when the kids are back," she said, stepping in and shutting the door. "I intend to squeeze every minute out of this. So do shut up, honey, and move aside."

As Harry made the omelette, and Ginny hummed as she waited for breakfast, he was now sure he did pull his leg muscle. He didn't say anything about it, though, saving it to make Ginny laugh the next appropriate time. He finished off making breakfast, put the pan into the sink, and sat beside his wife, who stroked his leg with her foot under the table as they ate.

A knock sounded at the front door, and after Ginny waved her wand to unlock the door and shouted 'Come in," Hermione walked into the house. She looked around the living room for awhile, and then entered the kitchen to find Ginny and Harry.

"Hello," she said, putting her cloak onto the coat stand. "I parked the car right behind yours, so I hope neither of you is planning to head out for now."

Both Ginny and Harry shook their heads, while Harry pulled out a chair for Hermione. After a soft peck on Hermione's cheek, Harry got up to pour her a cup of coffee. Ginny asked her how she was doing.

"Can't complain," Hermione shrugged.

"Where's Ron?" asked Harry as he passed the cup of coffee to Hermione.

"Dunno," she said, shrugging. "He must've been sleeping or something when I left."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look, but chose to say nothing.

"Excited about the kids coming, eh?" said Hermione, this time finally smiling widely. "Can't wait really. It's not fun without them."

"Says you," said Ginny. "They'll be waking us up early in the morning..." she giggled at the look Harry gave her at that, but continued, "whining about the other pulling... ah, I can't pretend. We should all move to Scotland and force the kids to stay with us when they finish classes."

"They'll disown us before they become adults if we dared," said Harry to Ginny, then turning to Hermione, "I bet you're most pleased at James' return. For goodness sake, he displayed some hope in the beginning being funny and all. But he slowly turned into you, Hermione. In fact, I think he's worse than you were as a kid."

"Hush," said Hermione, slapping Harry's shoulder. "That James is a wonder."

"I bet he'll ask in his third night if he could spend the night at your and Ron's house," said Harry. "Bloody hell, he must drink encyclopedias when he's there, because we sure as hell don't keep them in the house."

"He's fascinating," said Hermione, beaming. "He knows spells I've never read about."

"Worse," said Harry, "he's _political_. Did you know he's having long talks with Minerva? Even you couldn't talk to Dumbledore when he was Headmaster."

"And Minerva kept such a stern visage with us as a kid," said Ginny. "But James has charmed her."

"We must've failed somehow," said Harry in mock concern to Ginny. Hermione slapped him in the back of his head. "Bah!" he said to her. "You're more fond of James than anyone else in Britain, more than your kids perhaps. Wanna swap? We'll offer you James for Rose, now she knows what she's up to."

Hermione shook her head in wonder. "She got detention yesterday. The _day before_ leaving back home. There aren't even classes then."

"I'm surprised they caught her," said Harry. "She even refused the Marauder's Map," he said in wonder. "She knows an entire alternate means of travelling through the castle and out of it too. She told me there was no point in knowing where people were if she was using passages that the map didn't have. George is stunned, I assure you. Strange, though, she isn't aware of some passages we used as kids, but she doesn't even care..."

Harry suddenly realised Ginny was shaking her head, looking away from the table. She quickly got up, took the dishes on the table, and mumbled something about washing the dishes. She didn't turn back as she took the sponge and switched on the tap and hand-washed the dishes. Harry then felt the slight courage to look at Hermione, who was livid.

"You," she said, poking him hard in the chest with her index finger, "offered Rose the _Marauder's Map_!"

Harry mumbled something about good fun, but it came out more of a squeak.

"You tried to give Rose, of all the children in Europe, Rose!, a bleedin' Marauder's Map," she said, her voice rising as she got off the table. "And it wasn't enough, you discussed ways to sneak around the castle and out of it?

"Harry James Potter, are you barking mad?!"

Ginny shook with laughter throughout the shouting Hermione dished out at Harry. Even she was shocked at Harry. Rose took mischief to another level. Harry, Hermione and Ron had adventures with all those noble causes, while Fred and George were just interested in having fun, candy and all. But Rose? Not only was she exceedingly intelligent, but she had her odd interests guiding her moves. Once, she snuck into the Prefects bathroom and changed it into any other bathroom the rest of the students had to deal with. As she left, and this was the only reason they knew it was her, she left a sign with her handwriting saying one word, 'Equality'.

More shocking, she did that in her _second_ year.

In October of her third year, she got into a fight with five, five!, Ravenclaw boys and girls who were bullying a kid she never met before. Being a Weasley kid, and not a Potter kid, she resorted to wand-usage and not fists to deal with it. Even though Rose got beaten badly in that fight, she still managed to get two of the kids to the hospital for a week as the Healer tried to find the spell that caused the injuries. Rose absolutely refused to tell what the spell she used was, saying they'd be fine in two weeks and would wake up then, also firmly saying they deserved it as the poor kid they were bullying was a first year muggle-born while the Ravenclaws were fifth years. Flitwick was attending a conference in Australia and wasn't coming back for a month, while the substitute Charms teacher was bemused at the whole thing. For that, Rose was in detention for half of her year until she told Headmistress McGonagall exactly what the spell was.

If that wasn't enough, Rose then broke into the Ravenclaw common room and found the remaining three kids in the fight to the hospital wing with the same symptoms. The professors had no idea who did it based on witnesses or evidence in the scene of the break-in, but since Rose did the same spell and refused to deny it was her, there was no doubt in the culprit.

For that, Rose was in detention for the other half of the year.

They had called for St. Mungo's Healers to come when they could, who would've surely found out the spell. However, a disaster had struck and the hospital told Hogwarts that because of the demand for Healers, they would come only after four or so days as the health of the patients weren't deteriorating. However, at that time, James was deep in reading pre-Anglo Saxonic magic for "light reading" and knew the spell done when he heard the main symptoms, and proceeded to see if he could find the counter to it and after two days of full reading, he skipped classes and didn't inform the teachers (thus finding himself in detention later on too), he found the potion and arm-twisting wand-waving necessary and the time of night needed, and he went to the infirmary to magically spell them out of their coma.

Ginny grinned as before then, Rose was merely impressed with James, but after that she was in awe. Rose thought she was quite clever picking a spell from one bloody ancient Hogwarts library tome that was made around the time the Romans ruled England. The spell wasn't hard to do, but she was betting that the professors wouldn't assume a kid would go for something so obscure. But James did. Rose then proceeded to follow James to find as much knowledge as she could. James made it clear from the beginning that nothing he told her was for mischief's sake, and more importantly that she must never make a single rule-break anywhere near his presence.

To everyone's shock, Rose actually mellowed after that. After months and months and years of Hermione and Ron trying to get her to cut out the mayhem, her observing of James in his infinite calmness actually provided Rose an avenue to put her energies. It wasn't uncommon to see Rose seated with James, even during the summers, with thick books around them. However, she didn't completely change, note her ability to get a detention after the school year had finished.

Rose was a loner, and until she found James as someone to emulate, the only person she interacted closely with Albus, but the fact that Albus was in another house limited their interactions. Neither would dare enter the other's common room (not out of the past rivalry between houses, but because students simply never brought friends into one another's common room as an unspoken rule). So whenever Rose was in the Gryffindor common room, she'd deal with James whenever he was free, and she'd roam around the castle and Hogsmeade with Albus, or sat beside him at any classes they happened to share.

At this point, Ginny realised she ran out of dishes to wash, and had no choice but to turn back to the table, where the Rose topic was finished and Harry and Hermione were discuss something else. Hermione was still glaring at Harry, and he was leaning back. Ginny moved to stand behind Harry and played with his hair as Hermione then looked at her watch.

"I've got a few supplies to pick up," said Hermione as she stood up and picked up the cloak from the stand. "Anyone wants to tag along? Ron hates those muggle stores, like you know."

"Nope," said Harry. "We've bought a few things last week and we're fine now."

Hermione kissed Ginny and Harry and left the house. They heard the car start and drive off. Ginny and Harry looked at the time, and didn't know what to do for now. They each took the day off today, while other parents simply picked up the kids after coming out of work. Harry never planned what to do for now. Ginny sat on his lap and leaned back onto Harry, and he took a big breath of her hair. He loved it when her hair smelled of _his_ shampoo. It felt strangely right.

They sat like that as time passed, without care or need. Harry put his arms under Ginny thighs and lifted her up and carried her to the living room. He sat on the couch, with her still in his arms, and then lay back as he used one hand to reach for the remote on the table and switched on the television. They continued to say nothing as they watched the news and when the sports started, Harry raised the remote to change the channel, but Ginny grabbed his hand.

"Wait," she said. "I want to know the football news."

Harry rolled his eyes, but remained silent. Bloody football. Rugby, now that he appreciated of muggle sports, but football? And not to mention having Quidditch available? Harry and Ginny lived with alot of muggle lifestyles, but Harry drew the line in sports.

"Oh bollocks," she said, when the news presenter said that a team she hated just acquired a new talented player.

"You really are Arthur Weasley's daughter?" said Harry, whispering into her ear. "Bloody hell, woman, you've adopted muggle sports. Ron disapproves greatly, I must remind you."

"Oh sod off," she said, still peeved at the news.

Harry started to kiss her ear and approach further, when a knock sounded at the door. Ginny got up to the door, and in walked Ted after her.

"Teddy, my boy," said Harry, who got up to hug the young man. Right after hugging Ted, Harry pushed him back to the door.

"Wha?" asked Ted in shock, and Ginny was confused.

"Out, man," said Harry. "I was about to have my way with this redhead vixen, and your presence is most unacceptable."

Ginny pulled Harry's arms away, and looking at Harry half-wanting to slap him, the other half to laugh - and was there a glint in her eye which Harry took that she was turned on? Harry wondered - and lovingly pulled Ted back to the living room, and asked him if he wanted anything. Harry grinned as Ginny's mother mannerism kicked in within seconds and she left to make something for Ted to eat.

"Seriously, Harry," said Ted, whose smile indicated anything but seriousness. "What does too much information mean to you? You take open relationships to a whole new level."

"I have needs man," said Harry. "And I won't have my way on that couch you're seated on until September because some rotten monsters who happen to be my children may be scarred for life if they witness anything."

"And what about my scars?" asked Ted angrily as he jumped off the couch. "Why would I want to know what you've done on this couch?!"

Standing, Ted looked at the other couch, and Harry nodded his head with a wider smile. He then tentatively looked at the three cushioned seats that stood separate from one another with extreme caution. Harry bared his teeth with the smile.

Ted decided to merely stand in the living room as he didn't want to ask anything about the floor, in fact he made sure not to look at the floor in case his godfather should notice it and tell him of an answer. Harry let out a snort when Ginny walked in and Ted looked away, a blush in his face. They were too serious with one another at times, Harry felt. Ginny set the food on the table, looking from Ted to Harry in bemusement.

"Teddy?" she asked cautiously. "You know you don't need to be asked to sit here."

Harry savoured every second that passed, as Ted didn't have the heart, nor the backbone, to tell his beloved Ginny why exactly he wasn't seated. But Ted didn't seem to have the will to sit on the couch with Harry and Ginny watching him.

"What in the blazes did that nitwit tell you now?" asked Ginny in a huff. While Harry and Ginny had a rather conventional manner in raising the kids, with Ted, though, it was almost a comedy team; Ginny the straight person, Harry the slightly crazed one. And Ginny never failed to swear, insult, curse (both verbally and with magic) and hit Harry for anything he did regarding Ted, in front of Ted.

Ted mumbled something, but it was utterly incoherent. Harry wished he could bottle this moment and take a sip of it whenever needed. Ginny turned and huffed towards Harry.

"Well?" she asked.

"Haven't the foggiest," said Harry. "Ol' Teddy seems to have an issues. Perhaps he should _lay_ on the couch?"

Ted sputtered. "Harry went on about what you-you-you were doing on the couch," he finally croaked.

"Harry Potter!" screeched Ginny. "He's your godson, for Merlin's sake!"

"He's old enough to know the truth," Harry said.

"He's bloody lying, Ted," Ginny sighed. "We haven't touched the living room. He's having you on."

Harry cackled.

"You sneaky..." said Ted, sitting down swiftly.

Ginny raised her hands and walked out of the room to get something for herself to drink. When Harry cheekily asked if she could get something for him while on the way, she made an obscene gesture. Harry heard the phone ring as she was there and heard her pick it up.

"Ted, Ted, what are we going to do with poor, gullible Ted?" said Harry in mock-sadness as he sat down in the other couch and nicked some of Ted's food on the table. Ted only glared at him.

"You know," said Harry, after swallowing his first bite, "Fred and George would've eaten you alive if you were in my place in Hogwarts."

"Yes," said Ted sarcastically, "because I didn't think my godfather would joke about something like that?"

"The others mother and father you," waved Harry aside. "Hermione, Ginny and even Ron. You don't need another person asking you if you need toilet paper. You need me."

Ted just shook his head.

"I guess you think you're funny?" said Ted. "The way you drive Ginny furious whenever I'm around. Pretty brave."

"I'm Harry Potter, mate," said Harry, showing two fingers at Ted. "Not one, but _two_ times Voldemort defeater. If I'm not brave, nobody is."

"I see," said Ted. "I've received an odd letter in my mailbox, the other day. It was a Ministry report on damages I made in your house. And I thought to myself that I never had a duel during a party in your house."

Harry stopped smiling immediately. "Now hang on, Teddy, I've been meaning to get to talk to you about this," he said. "Ginny was going to spend the night with her mother, and I didn't have a party. I called some friends over for some fun and relaxation. Bill, though, brought this git of the highest proportions who was aggressive with everyone. Apparently his girlfriend had ended their relationship right before he came, and Bill in his infinite wisdom assumed that having a good time with some new people could be helpful. After he mocked me for the fourth time, I wondered aloud to him which quality drove the girls away from him.

"Now he throws a spell at me," said Harry, raising his hands in shock. "He throws a spell at _me_, in my house."

"What did you do to him?" asked Ted, very curious.

"I whipped him to three different counties," said Harry, "that's what I bloody did to him."

"And the damages?" Ted asked.

"To scare him, I threw a massive spell right by him," said Harry. "It blew out the wall behind you."

Ted groaned. "And you said it was me?!"

"Obviously," said Harry. "The Ministry sent _Obliviators_. I told Ginny I spent the night with Ron, and Ron was going to back me up as he told Hermione some odd fib that he was going to a symposium of wandmakers, for what reason I wouldn't know. I told Ginny I slipped up and told you the house was free and that you used the spare key and made a spell that James told you about which blew up the wall. Thankfully, we have a person ready to be the next Dumbledore in magic as a child otherwise it would've never worked."

"Oh Ginny?" called Ted.

Harry's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare, you snot nosed face-changer," he growled. "She'll kill me if she knows I framed you." Ted shrugged.

"What Ted?" called Ginny.

"I never had a party in this house," Ted said loudly. "_Ever_. Honest."

A long pause ensued. Harry could almost see Ginny's face in that cute look as she tried to remember something or figure something out. He heard Ginny say she had to go on the phone, and heard her footsteps approaching.

Ted looked at Harry with a victorious grin, which fell as he saw Harry stand up quickly and jump on top of Ted. Harry waved for his shoes to fly to him, and the moment Ginny's furious face went around the corner into the living room, Harry spun while holding Ted.

Ted's eyes opened and they found themselves in downtown London.

"You _coward_," he said as Harry let go of him.

"When you get married," said Harry, getting to his knees and now putting on his shoes, "then come and call me a coward."

As they sat in a nearby fast food area, Harry asked Ted how his job search was going.

"Not bad," said Ted. "I've got an offer overseas with an international group, but I want to stay here for now. There's a job in the Ministry that seems interesting."

"Oh, where?" asked Harry, smearing ketchup all over his chips.

"A few departments," said Ted. "Magical Law being one."

"Hmm..." said Harry.

"You don't have an opinion?" asked Ted. "Ginny, Hermione and Ron all have one each."

"Pick what you like," said Harry. "Either way, I'm going to personally come with Ginny's packed lunches to work to bring them to you."

"You wouldn't dare," said Ted.

"Of course I would," said Harry. "I sent you a pink lunchbox in your fifth year to the Great Hall. Do you still doubt what I'll do?"

"I'm going to have to get you back more then," said Ted.

"Hermione's bloody excited over James coming back," said Harry. "Seriously, she should adopt him."

"How's the Slytherin?" asked Ted.

"He sent me an owl asking me if there was a way to block Hermione's owls with all their study advices in anticipation for the O.W.L.s," grinned Harry. "He didn't want to offend Hermione by saying to cut it out. He's wondering how she'll harass him next year if she's so bad when he actually has to take it."

"I heard Rose merely made a bonfire of the letters," Ted said. "Is it true?"

"Hilariously, yes it is," said Harry. "Don't know what Hermione is worrying about. It's not for another year. Rose will pass them with ease."

"And Albus?" asked Ted.

"He'll do fine, I'm sure," said Harry. "I mean, it's bad enough he's green-and-silver in this family. To have to be compared to James' O.W.L.s is just cruel, and then be Harry Potter's son. I don't think it's easy."

"He's holding himself well, though," said Ted.

"Yeah, he is, I think," Harry said rubbing his chin. "He does keep things in the chest, though. I hope he opened up a bit more since Christmas."

"That's Rose's job," said Ted. "She doesn't take his quiet nonsense and peels it out as long as it takes. He likes to pretend it bothers him, but Rose means the world to him. Even when she started chasing James like he was Merlin's reincarnation, she never reduced the fondness she has for Albus. I think she keeps him grounded."

"Who says loud and brash is the only way to go?" said Harry. "Albus reminds me a bit of Dumbledore, oddly enough. He always seems to know more than he lets on. And he never lets on more than he needs to."

"That's a politician in the making," noted Ted. "And a damn good one too."

"So Ginny told you that the Ministry advised him to take a few courses to make sure his path to the Ministry went smoothly?" Harry said. "Bloody hell, he's only fifteen. But, naturally, he took the courses. Why he should take _Muggle Studies_, though, I'll never know. He didn't even open the book for the test, he's been living like a muggle at home for years."

Ted looked at his watch. "I've got to go," he said. "I've got to head to the library to finish off some law books."

"And I have to go back to Ginny," said Harry. "When she's done with me, she might need a lawyer."

Ted laughed and they walked out of the place after paying. Harry told Ted he was expected for dinner with them.

"I don't want to hear you were at Hermione and Ron's again," said Harry sternly. "I asked you first and by Merlin, you're going to say no to Hermione."

"But she knows how to ask and twist you to say yes," whined Ted. "She already tried it yesterday, throwing the guilt-trip that you have three kids while she and Ron have two and for their first night back, she'd like to have me there to be three."

"If you don't come," said Harry with a swear, "I'm going to storm that house and take you out myself."

"Okay," said Ted, but Harry wasn't convinced and he said with more effort, "_Okay_!"

With a turn, they left one another to each go to different places.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX**

Harry apparated in a secluded corner down the street from his home, and walked all the way back to the house and opened the door with a key. He saw Ron lying on the couch, lazily eating a few fruits left on the table. The TV was off.

"I was looking for you," said Ron.

"I was with Ted," said Harry, taking a seat opposite Ron. "He's thinking of taking a job with the Ministry."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Magical Law, though, pretty much forces you to deal with the Ministry either way."

Ginny entered the room, and raised an eyebrow at Harry. Harry looked at her square in the eyes attempting to seem nonchalant, while furiously wishing in his head that he had learned Occlumency. With a knowing smirk, Ginny sat on Harry's lap and hiding her whisper from Ron by giving a kiss to Harry's ear, she told Harry they were going to deal with it later on. Ginny smiled when Harry gulped at that.

"Hermione wants Ted to come to our house for dinner tonight with the kids," said Ron, tentatively.

"Not going to happen," waved Ginny. "She got Ted on Christmas, New Year's and the first day back from schools in the past two summers."

"Listen to this woman," said Harry, rubbing Ginny's abdomen in languid concentric circles. "We're storming your house if Ted doesn't eat tonight. We asked first."

"Why don't you have him tomorrow?" asked Ginny.

"It's the first day with the kids back, you know," said Ron.

Harry and Ginny knew exactly what Ron meant, but they weren't going to let Ted stay there again.

"You up for some Quidditch in the weekend with the kids?" asked Harry. Ginny simply nodded her head, her cheek rubbing against Harry's. Her eyes were closed then.

"Sure," said Ron. "Let's see how good Hugo and Lily are now."

"Well, they got whipped in the final," noted Harry, "by Ravenclaw, so they'll be up for proving themselves."

"Lily doesn't need to prove anything," said Ginny, eyes still closed and her face pointing upwards as she rested on Harry's shoulder. "She got into the Gryffindor team in her first year. Considering, of course, that six other Beaters got injured that year, but even then, what a Beater she is."

"Well, granted," said Ron. "But that doesn't mean Hugo isn't clearly more talented just because he had to wait one more year to get in."

"Yes, I'm afraid it does," said Ginny. "Accept it Ron, your niece is a better player than your son."

"Lily's a Beater," said Harry. "How can we compare her with a Chaser in Hugo?"

"Fine, better flyer," waved Ginny. "Whatever you wish to call it."

"Where's Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Don't know," said Ron. "She left in the morning somewhere."

Ginny's eyes opened then. Harry could feel her somewhat more alert.

"She came here, Ron," she said. "Surely you knew that?"

"Wha-?" said Ron. "Oh... I was sleeping when she left. Heard her leave, though."

"_Right_," said Harry, but didn't want to push it further.

"I'll go and get ready to pick the kids up at King's Cross," said Ron, getting to his feet. "I'll see you there."

He got his coat and stood in the living room, and...

"No apparating in the house," said Ginny, with an exasperated tone.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, I'm going to have to reach the end of the road so no muggle sees me," said Ron. "What difference does it make? The kids aren't even here."

"Me and Harry like it this way," said Ginny.

"She got the muggle appreciation from your dad, no doubt," said Harry.

Ron, grumbling all the way to the door, left the house, and heard him take a number of steps until his footsteps no longer were audible. Ginny leaned forward over to pick up the remote and switched on the TV. Harry leaned back to pick a magazine in arms-reach on the bookshelf and quietly read it.

"What are we going to do about Ron and Hermione?" said Ginny.

"Nothing," said Harry, not looking up from the magazine.

"There's clearly something going on," said Ginny.

"Yes, it seems to be obvious," said Harry.

Ginny waited for Harry to continue, but he didn't. After a moment, she huffed.

"Well...?" she said, slapping the back of his hand.

"Well, what?" asked Harry.

"We can't not do anything," said Ginny.

"Double negative confused me," said Harry, shrugging.

"Oh come off it!"

"Look," said Harry, lowering his magazine finally. "Your Ron's sister. You won't seem impartial."

"Of course I would," she said. "I care about Hermione."

"Yes, you do," said Harry. "I said you won't _seem_ impartial. Whatever you say, you'll be Ron's sister saying it, and it'll be taken as such."

"And what about you?" asked Ginny.

"I'm friends with both of them," said Harry, "for far too long. Each will think I'm taking the side of the other, and neither will feel better."

Harry quizzically looked at Ginny's frown of confusion.

"That makes no sense," she said in disgust. "Preposterous. I can't speak to them because I may not seem impartial, but you cannot speak to them because you'd seem too impartial?"

"Not the words, I'd use," said Harry, "but yeah."

"Do you have sand for brains?" asked Ginny. "Both cannot make sense."

"Look," said Harry. "We can't say anything. They've been married for fifteen years. What can we tell them they haven't tried before."

"But Harry," she said. "Things have been getting more awkward by the day. Even Mum's concerned now."

"I'm telling you Ginny," said Harry. "There's nothing we can do here but meddle."

"And if things worsen even more?" asked Ginny.

"Then they worsen," said Harry with conviction. "We cannot make things better, only worse. They either have to solve it or..."

He didn't have to finish, and went back to reading. After about half an hour of silence, Ginny shook Harry's leg below her.

"Let's go pick up the kids."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX**

Harry stood there near the tracks, whistling softly to himself. The train was running a bit late, but nothing was wrong as far as he heard. Ginny was pacing around the station, getting impatient with the wait. Ron and Hermione stood with them, but he noticed they each stood so Ginny and Harry would be between them. He saw Malfoy with his wife far ahead, Bill and Fleur were just arriving to pick up Josephine, along with Percy and Penelope waiting for Arthur, Margaret and Anthony. Charlie couldn't come in time, so Alice was there alone to pick up Marissa.

After a time, the large train arrived and Ginny's pacing finally stopped. Through the smoke, the crowd of kids running about, the suitcases, the animals, the parents and familes, Harry simply decided to stay back as Ginny made the error of diving into a crowd. Ginny came out of the crowd, with great annoyance in her face and here hair messed up, brushing dirt off her clothes. Lily followed her through the crowd. Upon seeing her father, Lily dropped her suitcase and ran towards him. Her red hair bounced as she swiftly hopped around a standing muggle, her cheeks red and a glowing smile on her face.

"Dad!" she squealed as Harry lifted her off the ground, it was getting difficult now as Lily was no longer a little child, being a second year and all.

"Lil," Harry yelled even louder. "Why are we shouting?" he asked with a mischievous grin, and Lily giggled. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I couldn't find the two," Ginny said.

"I'm surprised you found one," said Harry, still holding Lily, and then appraising Ginny. "You look like you were run over by a stampede."

"Some parent shoved me aside and I lost my footing," snarled Ginny. "Once you get down in a crowd, it really is hard to get to your feet."

Harry looked at Ginny with sympathy, but when Ginny turned away to look for the two boys, he made a face at Lily, who laughed this time. Ginny looked back, but both Harry and Lily stared at her expressionless. Harry put Lily back to her feet, saying he'd now have to look for the boys. But before he took a step, he saw them come through the crowd. He tapped Ginny's shoulder and pointed.

James came out first, deep in conversation with Rose, who was staring at him with vivid attention. Albus look disinterested, and the moment he saw his father, he nodded his head at James and rolled his eyes. Harry stifled a laugh. How they change in school, he though. Albus couldn't get far from James, because Rose had her arm wrapped fondly, but unfortunately firmly, around his waist.

Upon seeing his parents, James stopped speaking.

"Rose," said Ginny warmly as she enveloped her in a deep hug. "It's so great to see you."

"Same here, Aunt Ginny," she said. "Hi, Uncle Harry."

"It's the Chosen One for you, missy," said Harry, who hugged her tight as Ginny went to hug her boys. "How was your year?"

"Can't complain," she said, before, "_much_."

"You'll tell me all about it," he said. "But your parents are looking for you."

With a hand-wave bye to James and Lily, and a peck on the cheek for Albus, Rose left them to go to her parents.

"Minister Potter, good to see you back," said Harry to James, in what appeared to be absolute seriousness were it not for the twinkle in his eye.

"Dad," James sighed, but he was smiling.

"Stop teasing him, Harry," said Ginny, with a mischievous grin. "Especially considering he's a Head Boy now."

"Mum," said James. "They don't tell you if you're chosen until early August."

"If you're not Head Boy," said Harry, "I streak down the Ministry corridors."

"And I'll join him," said Ginny, nodding.

"Mum, Dad," said Albus. "Does the phrase 'too much information' mean anything to you?"

Harry tapped his chin as he was thoughtful. "Hmm," he said. "Never heard of it."

"How was your year?" asked Ginny to Albus, while they took the suitcases and made way to the car park.

"Quieter than usual, since Rose has calmed with the madness," he said. "Not that I was complaining when it was going on."

"How's the dungeons?" asked Harry.

"Not bad, as always," replied Albus. "You keep asking this trying to boast you've been there."

"Yeah," agreed Lily. "Just because you have been to three house common rooms..."

"Doesn't mean there's anything to boast about," finished James. "Besides, the Hufflepuff one is the best located. Right beside the kitchens. Imagine all the eclairs one can get in the middle of the night."

"Don't tell me Rose has been there too now?" sighed Ginny.

"Twice," said James. "One to get a look around for me. I wondered how it looked like. I got the Ravenclaw's description from Dad, Slytherin from Al, and there was one left."

"And you didn't go in yourself?" asked Harry. "What kind of Gryffindor are you?"

"Rose suggested it would be interesting," said James. "And I didn't say I never went later on."

"_James Potter_," Harry whistled. "And here I thought Hermione gave birth to you while Ginny and I were Confunded. Wait, hang on."

But James continued to walk further on as if the conversation was finished, with his father chasing him for information.

As they reached the car, Harry threw the keys to Ginny, who caught it in mid-air, and lifted the kids' bags and cases into the boot of the car. Harry got in the front, Ginny started the car and they were off.

"Dad," said Lily. "Is Ted coming for dinner tonight?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Yeah right," said Albus with a snort. "Not while Aunt Hermione draws breath."

"Indeed," said James. "Dad... newspaper."

Harry threw the paper at him.

"Haven't had muggle news in months," said James. "An island could've sank and who would've known up there?"

"We send word when something big happens," said Harry.

"Yeah, but..." said James.

"You got the paper," said Albus. "Read, enjoy it and pass me the sports section. I want to see who Fulham bought."

"Nobody yet," said Ginny with a huff. "We've been linked with a couple though."

"Puddlemere United," groaned Harry. "Chudley Canons, Tutshill Tornadoes... doesn't anyone watch Quidditch in my ruddy family?!"

"No," was the chorus of the kids and Ginny.

"Honey, I love playing it," said Ginny. "Watch it? Yeah sure, sometimes. But to follow it?"

"I'll go with you though," said Lily diplomatically.

"Good," said Harry. "The Falcons are playing the Tornadoes a couple of weeks from now. We'll go there. I'll see if we can watch Toyohashi Tengu play their friendly against Puddlemere United. I hope they tear a new one into Puddlemere."

"You're going to Japan?!" asked James in shock. "And you're not taking us?"

"You just said you didn't like Quidditch," said Harry with a grin. "Now you're wondering why you aren't coming along?"

"Yeah," said Lily, folding her hands, imitating her father's grin. "Why come if you don't like Quidditch?"

Albus and James' moaning, pushed on by Harry who took out his wand and waved it tauntingly, got Ginny to step in loudly.

"Stop whining like babies," she snapped, and they became silent quickly, but their faces were still mutinous. "And cut it out, Harry," she said to her husband who was at that moment looking gleefully at his sons. Telling the two boys, now, Ginny said, "We're all going to Japan. It's a treat we've been planning for awhile. We'll be there for a month."

The kids whooped and cheered at that.

"Though if any of you gets into trouble," continued Ginny. "I'm going to leave you with Aunt Hermione and will ask her to give you some summer school-work."

"You..." said Albus, "wouldn't dare."

"Yeah," said James. "I'm going into my N.E.W.T.s next year, and Al is going to do his O.W.L.s. She'll murder us."

"Let that be incentive to not get into trouble, then," said Ginny, with a smirk.

"Dad," said Albus, his father turned around in his seat, "I read about an Auror assault a week ago in the Prophet. Were you in it?"

Harry, looking at his son's brilliant green eyes, said, "No, I had no..."

The many years of Auror-work had further enhanced Harry's reflexes, and when the flash of a large red appeared in the corner of his left eye, he instinctively waved his wand which he already had in his hand, mouthing a shield spell which covered his body.

The last thing he could remember was the brilliant green eyes locked in his as he became unconscious as his head slammed into the shield in the midst of a ear-shattering crash, before all was black.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX**

Harry woke up surrounded by white. After wondering if he died, again, he saw he was in a hospital room in St. Mungo's. He shook his head, and saw his glasses were left in the table beside his bed. He tried to get up, but failed his first time. He got up in his second try.

Apparently a spell was on the bed, because before Harry could reach the door, a Mediwizard rushed into the room.

"Mr. Potter," he said in concern. "Please get back to your bed. You're not healed yet."

Harry stood there. "What happened?" he said. "Why am I here?"

"You don't remember?" asked the Mediwizard, waving his wand an a sheet appeared with a quill, and he quickly wrote that down.

"No," said Harry, looking at the sheet cautiously. "The last thing I remember is me making a shield spell... and green."

"Green?"

"Never mind that," said Harry. "What happened?"

"I'm not the best to tell you," said the Mediwizard. "Please sit and we'll get you Mrs Weasley, who's the person in the waiting room."

"I don't care who is in the waiting room," snarled Harry. "What in the blazes happened? And where are my children?"

"Sir, _please_," said the Healer. "Sit down for now."

"What happened?!" said Harry, even angrier. "Tell me _now_."

The Mediwizard poked his head around the door, and called, "Get Mrs Weasley in here. Quick."

The Mediwizard approached Harry slowly, and took his arm. "Mr. Potter, please get back to bed."

"Where are my kids?" Harry asked again, pushing aside the hand on his arm.

"Calm down, sir."

"Do I look like I want to be calm?"

"Harry!" said a third voice to the conversation.

"Hermione," Harry said, speaking in what was now quite a loud voice. "Hermione, what is going on? Why am I here?"

Hermione looked at him with great trepidation, and Harry couldn't take it no longer.

"WHERE IS MY WIFE?!" he roared, and he didn't like it when he saw Hermione crying.

Harry sat down, losing feeling in his legs.

"Where are they?" he whispered, looking at the ground, and every second that passed he dreaded with stomach feeling worse and worse.

"Mr. Potter," said the Mediwizard, when nobody spoke. "The vehicle you were in was in an accident. A large muggle vehicle had struck if from the side. The person controlling it had moved too fast to stop."

Harry didn't say anything. He was still looking at a speck on the floor, his eyes not wavering.

"You survived because of the shield you made," continued the Mediwizard. "Even then, you were unconscious for two days, and it was a struggle to get you healed. The car you were in was wrecked completely."

"Where are my children?" said Harry one more time.

Hermione went and sat beside Harry, but he shrugged her attempt at a hug, quite violently too.

"Where?" said Harry, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Hermione couldn't form the words, and the Mediwizard, taking pity on her, said them, "Sir, they did not make it. Upon arriving on the scene, you wife and two of your children had already passed away. Your daughter passed away during the trip to St. Mungo's.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss."

Harry couldn't feel his stomach now. Where before he yelled, now he could not speak. His chest constriction made it difficult to breath and his eyes lost all focus and control. He looked around the room, waiting for someone or some thing to say this wasn't so. He looked at Hermione for a moment, who was devastated and could only whisper, "I'm sorry," to him. Sorry? For what?

Harry's hands shook as he tried to clench them, his breaths coming out in short gasps. And to the Mediwizard, and Hermione's surprise, he got up to his feet, walked to the door and stormed out the room.

As the door slammed very loudly behind him, Hermione's tears turned in sobs.

* * *

A/N: I post the chapters as I write them. As such, and given this is more drama and especially angst, I could use some feedback in how I portray the characters if I get a bit weird or off in the plot. Feel free to be as critical as you please if I take a character far beyond the realms of believability in their words or actions. I'm trying to do something different, but not ridiculous.

I'm going to give my own takes of how they act. Almost every character in canon will act to a degree differently in the books. It's been over twenty years since _Deathly Hallows_ occurred. They've changed over time. What I don't want to do, however, is rip apart the entire fabric of their characters; there are certain things that define the characters that will be a stretch if changed radically.

By the way, I bet you won't guess when the next scene will begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Woah, been awhile. Things have been hectic and boring at certain times and unusually both seem to stifle the slightest bit of creativity in my mind. I just couldn't envision where to go. I mean, I had a plan, but after thinking on it, it felt rather predictable.

Don't get me wrong, this is a an angstish story with a person in pain. But I decided to throw all the rules out and do what I wouldn't expect. Like I indicated in "Six Years to War" (**ad voice** now out now on paperback, heh heh) if I feel like someone else could've easily thought it up, I lose interest. So I decided to throw in a twist and put this a few years later.

I'm not sure how ambitious this is, I hope the reviews will illuminate that, but I decided to continue the story _after_ something happening. I figured why not hop right over all that and deal with the aftereffects. As annoying as it sounds, keep in mind things have been happening from the end of the last chapter until now. I may illuminate some of it, but only some.

* * *

**Chapter 2  
Direction**

_We accept our successes as our own, but blame others for our failures_

_**Four years, six months and two days after the crash**_

Someone was banging hard on the door. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly got to his feet and wandered aimlessly towards the sound. Opening it, the man glared at the uniformed man standing unsurprised.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, Lupin," said the man. "Your client has been given another charge and is facing a hearing this afternoon. Since he has been forbidden from communicating with the outside world I am court-ordered to inform you."

"Which client would that be?" asked Ted, still rubbing his eyes though knowing what the answer will be.

"Hercule Clarkson," was the answer.

"Thank you," said Ted, whose voice did not sound the least bit thankful. "Consider me informed."

When he closed the door, Ted released a number of swear words about the client in question.

Half an hour later, a welldressed Ted appeared out of a fireplace at the Ministry. Paying no attention to the fountain, which now simply held a plaque with a copy of the Code of Magical Society than the statues of long, long, time ago, he quickly entered the elevator and waited for his floor to come.

It was at the elevator when he realised something was off. He saw his godfather come in, which wasn't the odd bit, but that his godfather had a look of distress on his face.

Reading that, you would assume Ted took that as a bad sign, but you'd be off the mark. You see, the sight of any display of emotion on Harry Potter was as normal as a Yeti running around in Britain (we all, obviously, know the Yeti habitat is Northwestern Canada and Far north east of Russia). Ted decided not to indicate his presence, as it would surely lead to the expressionless godfather he had to see for four years.

Harry Potter, devastated at his well-publicised loss of his family, had reverted back from everyone. Emotionally that is, not physically. Sure, he'd come to family/friend gatherings, sure he'd talk (never about something that truly matter), sure he'd make his nephews and nieces chuckle at times and so on and so on and so on. But his brilliant eyes were faded, his jokes infrequent, his appearances here and there.

Explaining that, one would thus be more willing to understand that Ted found more pleasure in seeing anything on Harry's face, because even distress lit up his eyes, the brilliant sheen so bright Ted would've swore that it was reflective if Ted was in a hyperbolic mood. To Ted, who apart from his maternal grandparents who were now sadly departed, Harry was the only left direct family figure.

Yes, Ted's mood towards Harry was filled with infinite sorrow, but he was ashamed to admit that after two years of Harry not changing, he couldn't resist becoming angry. It was bad enough everyone lost Ginny and the kids, but they didn't have to lose Harry as well. Ted knew it was an incredibly selfish thought, and he was at fault for thinking like that, but he didn't consider the Harry he knew since the moment he saw him after hearing of Harry's family's deaths as Harry. That person wasn't Harry, simple enough. And Ted couldn't help but feel angry at it. It wasn't fair.

And then two years became three, three became four, until Ted came to accept that while Harry's hurt may have lessened to however much one's hurt could conceivably lessen in such circumstances, Harry was resisting reforming anything but tentative, arms-length relationships. Harry was the first, admittedly, to appear whenever something wrong happened to someone, but as soon as the situation was over Harry disappeared.

Ted wondered what could pull Harry out of this situation. Or more like who, because you can bet Gringott's that Ron and Hermione (as much as there was a Ron and Hermione, but we'll get to that in a moment) did not give in for a moment.

* * *

Rose Weasley was sipping coffee while listening to her Dad speak. She was grateful to having had her Dad's ear in this circumstance, don't get her wrong she loved her Mum and they were pretty open but Rose felt that her mother really didn't have the same understanding.

"So you see, flower," continued Ron, "you can always apply again in a few months."

"Dad," Rose said with a weary sigh. "I think it's time for me to look at something else. I've tried this for three years. It's not happening."

Ron rubbed his eyes, not knowing the words to say to calm his daughter. It did pain him to see her in this level of distress.

"I should've known it wouldn't have worked," said Rose after a long pause. "McGonagall has completely blocked every professor from writing a reference letter for me without having to add a significant portion in the trouble I've gotten."

"It's unfair," said Ron. "A few mistakes in your youth shouldn't prevent you from trying to get a career."

"It's not unfair," said Rose, shaking her head as she stirred her half empty cup whilst staring at it. "And I bet Mum thinks so."

"Why don't you talk to Mum about this?" asked Ron.

"I do," said Rose, "hence my hesitance. Dad, you know Mum's view on it, and I just got rejected. Let me be with someone who understands the difficulty before going to Mum. She got offered a post in Healer school and she hadn't even applied to it nor even wanted to go there. I can't get in after three years of trying and some pretty good marks. Let me wallow a bit before going to her. She doesn't disagree with McGonagall."

"I'm sorry," said Ron.

"I'm not sure what is my plan B," said Rose. "But that'll be something to talk to Mum over, she has a good eye for that."

Ron's disapproving look left Rose feeling guilty.

"I know I'm unfair," said Rose. "Mum was warning me for years to cut it out, and I'm frustrated with myself. It's just not easy being seen as Hermione Granger's child. People expect me to have memorised textbooks."

"Hey, I know all about it having been Hermione Granger's husband," said Ron breezily, but Rose dared not interject. "But it's too easy feeling this about your Mum. Had you succeeded, you'd be less likely to give her credit."

"True," said Rose. "We accept our successes as our own, but blame all others for our failures."

"Mum has trained you right," said Ron. "So how is she doing?"

"Fine Dad," said Rose. "She's been spending time with Uncle Harry, and isn't giving up."

"I'm not, either," said Ron. "But Harry seems comfortable, in a way, with how things are going on in his life."

"Mum is trying to rationalise her way to get to Uncle Harry."

"Harry's lost everyone who meant as family to him since before he can remember," said Ron. "I think he's decided no more. He no longer feels it's worth it. Doesn't he have a right to decide what to do with his life?"

* * *

Ilena Roberts was checking something on her mobile phone when her boss came in. Swiftly she tossed the phone into the open drawer desk, and standing up she tried to shut the drawer down as subtly as possible. Her boss, still going over some notes as he walked in, nevertheless seemed to have seen her.

"Seriously, Miss Roberts," he sighed. "Can you not bring a muggle contraption into the Ministry just once? Surely you can live without it during the day? It sets a bad example."

"Sorry, Mr. Potter," said Ilena quickly, blushing furiously while her boss didn't even stop walking since entering.

"Who do we have to talk to today?" her boss asked.

"Well, we an appointment with the Argentinean Head of Magical Creatures department coming over about intelligence on a smuggling of Andes Firegoats that is on a muggle ship heading towards us. We have an afternoon lunch with the ambassador from Italy, while our muggle representative asked to push our meeting at noon to tonight as he unfortunately forgot that he was taking his children to a football game."

"Asked him who was playing?" said the boss, having now stopped at his door.

"I think he said it was Fulham against someone," said Isabel. She didn't say anything at the split second look of hurt on her boss' face, because just as rapidly it appeared, his face smoothened into the calm look he always presented. She worked long enough with him to know to keep a complete avoidance on the slightest thing that was personal.

"Okay then," said Harry. "Let's get everything done quickly. I did keep you late last night and Christmas is only a week and a half away."

"Thank you sir."

After a minute of her boss' door being closed, the parchment in front of her had words scrawled on it as if an invisible person was writing on it that very moment.

_By the way, Miss Roberts, if Hermione Granger should come by, don't tell let her in. _

_Give her the usual talk with any excuse you can come up with._

_Thank you_

* * *

Hermione Granger was livid. Though not surprised. Having gone to Harry's house the night before, she got into a shouting match with him. Again.

So much for attempting him to mellow. Harry, after nearly begging her to leave for half an hour, to which she ignored repeatedly, suddenly lost his temper and let out a stream of fury at her. He railed at her for not staying out of his business, to which she shouted right back that she was his business as he was hers. After a number of minutes where she was still hazy on how it got so bad, he made a very snide comment that the most she lost was a husband in divorce and when she lost half the number of people he has in life then she could speak to him about it.

While Harry had suspected (along with Ginny) that things were deteriorating pretty bad, but apparently he hadn't known how bad it really got (unsurprising considering his emotional exile from everyone). Hermione hands began to shake as she struggled to find the words.

Realising she didn't know what to say to that, Hermione stormed out of Harry's apartment. She wasn't sure if Harry saw the tears in her eyes, and she didn't want to know if he cared.

But the Trio knew each other far too well, and Hermione knew that Harry knew she wasn't going to give up.

She went back to work, going through the notes from the Hungarian Ministry of Magic, who were demanding extradition of four Hungarian wizards who had escaped trial for murder and treasonous activities. Now, the British Ministry were only looking into the matter merely as a formality; the Hungarian Ministry were very reliable and if they said they had alot of evidence on the suspects then they did. The proper channels were followed in case one of the more... untrustworthy ministries were refused preventing them from complaining of bias. Besides, from time to time an error was already found.

But reading the file, Hermione doubted any mistakes were made here; the four in question were really dark characters with a fondness of mayhem. She lifted her quill, and as Head of the International Magical Office of Law she signed her approval of swift extradition. Though, a short time would have to pass with an appeal made, but after that Britain would be rid of them.

She opened a small container on her desk and scooping up some powder in it with her fingers, she flung the powder at the fireplace on the wall across from her desk. A muggle would've been surprised at the fact the powder had fallen completely onto the logs in the fireplace with not a speck falling elsewhere.

Flames erupted out of the logs and flickered in multiple colours. Hermione called, her head still in the notes in front of her, "International Confederation of Wizards, Head."

As the flames flickered and swirled after the order, slowly the image of an office appeared on the other side. A young woman with delightfully red hair appeared.

"Miss Granger," she said. "How can I help?"

"Hi, Ilena," said Hermione. "Is Harry in?"

Ilena Roberts' flustered as she spoke and hesitated for a few seconds before saying, quickly, "Mr. Potter is not available today."

"Tell that idiot that this is regarding work," snapped Hermione. "We do work in the same department, or did I enter the wrong Department of Magical Cooperation?"

"One moment, then," said Ilena.

"On second thought," said Hermione, "I'm too annoyed now. Could you simply give him this about the Hungarian request and say my division has approved the extradition."

"Not a surprise," said Ilena. "Do you mind me asking how the Hercule Clarkson issue is going on your end?"

"Of course I don't mind, Ilena," said Hermione. "You're an assistant, not a secretary. I just heard that the prosecution is thinking of adding another charge on him. This is a nightmare."

"Can he win?" asked Ilena.

"I don't know," sighed Hermione. "He's arguing for asylum as a British wizard when his grandparents lived here, and his parents nor he have ever stepped foot here, along with the claim that he cannot get a fair trial back in Caryntin. Now the former will be thrown out immediately as that goes against international magical laws. We're so few wizards and witches in the world that half of us could easily claim citizenship in a number of countries due to ancestry. The second, though, will be difficult. We have already come out against Caryntin's practices towards their people in a number of events and we'd be hypocritical if we simply brush that aside for this one case. Then again, this Clarkson person is really bad news and the sooner we get rid of him the better. Now you may know most of this, but I'm still stuck on how to deal with the matter. Ron tells me the he's ready to fight tooth and nail to get rid of him."

"Anything different and _then_ I'd be surprised with the Magical Law Enforcement," Ilena chuckled.

"What is Harry's take on it?" said Hermione.

"Well, he says he's looking into the matter and hasn't decided," said Ilena. "But he's got me getting paperwork ready in case he decides to make a friend of the court appearance."

"Which should be important, seeing as he is one of the top diplomats," said Hermione, rubbing a side of her head. "Thanks, Ilena."

As the flames died, Hermione couldn't help wondering what exactly Harry was up to there.

* * *

A/N: A short chapter to start off with, just to lay down how the story is going to go. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Answer to review question: No, there is no way Harry will go dark here. Not magically, that is. This is an emotional story. As for battles, things regarding their work will get sticky, so yes there will be a few around. However drama is my main goal here.

* * *

**Chapter 3  
Only Time**

_It was raining on the day of the funerals._

_Rain lashed against the tent that was erected and nearly drowned out the eulogies being given. It still wasn't loud enough to keep out the sobs from some people around, and the crowd wasn't thick enough to block the view from recognizing individuals in front._

_What the eulogies were saying, he did not know. For he paid little attention to what was said; he knew of the departed far better than almost all and there really wasn't anything they could say that he did not know of._

_Some wanted to make four separate funerals. He put his foot down, with complete disregard to any arguments made. It was a wonder he didn't Avada Kedavra himself after one funeral, so miserable he was. To go through four was unacceptable._

_To the others' disagreement, he also decided to arrange the funeral as quickly as possible. He couldn't have it immediately, as some had to travel, but he had no interest in delaying. Nobody could find him during the days prior to the funeral, save for the two moments he showed up to ensure the plans were running smoothly._

_Ron's face looked like he'd seen a ghost as he stared ahead, the only movement being the occasional blinking of his eyes which were filled with tears. Hermione didn't even look forward, she had her head on Rose's shoulders and her shoulders constantly shook as (he presumed) she sobbed uncontrollably._

_He once read that pain was merely a sign that you were still alive, that there was still something worth to go on for. He didn't agree, how could he? He would give anything he had to have perished in the crash with them. To lose everything, so suddenly, without warning... it wasn't fair._

_He never understood the idea of wanting to say goodbye to someone who died, feeling it was odd as it would be near impossible to truly say goodbye permanently to someone who you care about._

_But all he could think about now was about the last conversation he had with them. Was it deep enough? Did he show his love for them in it?_

_How meaningless his talk was with them. He spent an entire day just sitting with his wife, and he talked about travelling with his kids. How could he not tell Ginny how much he... how much she... meant to him. How much he loved her. How she calmed a spirit like his, emotionally abused until he was with her._

_She made living mean something._

_He never knew about that. When he was a young boy, it was about simply existing with the Dursleys. When he was a teenager, it was about surviving._

_But it was never about simply living. He only knew that when he had turned eighteen, and finally managed to settle with Ginny. Sure, she still had one more year left at Hogwarts, but even her absence meant something to look forward to, something good, pure... something positive about life, not death, not fear._

_And he didn't get to tell her that, didn't get to tell her..._

_goodbye._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X**

_July 23rd 2016_

Ginny was flustered as she got ready. She shoved Harry aside when he tried to, with a towel improperly wrapped around his waist and his left hand holding the towel up, enter the room to put on his clothes. She threw an insincere "sorry" as she continued to rush down the hall to find something or other.

Coincidentally (as all humiliations seem to have witnesses) Ginny and Harry's niece Marissa was at the highest step on the stairs just in time to see her uncle drop to the ground and his towel fall off. Quickly clutching her fingers firmly over her eyes, she didn't stop giggling when Harry got up and wrapped the towel around him tightly this time. The giggles turned to laughter as the thirteen year old heard her uncle let out a stream of angry phrases.

Ginny had come back, hold a pair of beautiful gold earrings with emerald cores and had calmed down now she found what she was looking for.

"Marissa," she said. "You look ready."

"Yes, Auntie," said Marissa. "All I need to do is put on my shoes."

"And you look lovely," said Ginny, lovingly straightening Marissa's dress at the shoulders. "Is Alice and Charlie ready?"

"Mum is," said Marissa. "But Dad takes ages, and Mum was already telling him to hurry up."

"Good, good. We don't want to be late," said Ginny. "Have to get the best seats.

"Harry will you hurry up?!" yelled Ginny at the closed door.

The door, swiftly opened, and Harry was straightening his ties. "Would you go and bloody..." he trailed off as he saw Marissa. "I'm almost ready. I need to change my tie and socks."

"Why on earth would you change your tie?" asked Ginny. "It looks nice."

"Well, my tie doesn't match my hair," said Harry, "while my socks don't match my tie." And he shut the door before Ginny could say another word.

"Why you..." said Ginny, who had to mutter the next few words due to her niece being nearby. "He's doing this to annoy me," she told her niece. "Well if he thinks he's smart, we'll be at the door. If he's late, we'll leave him."

At the front door stood a number of Weasleys and their kids. James, Albus and Lily all stood quietly at the large crowd. They were always shy kids when the crowds were big.

George asked, "So everyone's ready?"

"Except for Uncle Harry," giggled Marissa.

"We're going to have to hurry, Ted's waiting," said Victoire loudly, louder than anyone else was speaking. As all looked at her, she blushed.

"She's right," said Ginny. "We're off. We have many cars waiting and I see no reason why those not travelling with that fool of a husband of mine would have to wait for him."

Nobody waited to give Harry the benefit of a defence and everyone walked out. Soon, only Ginny and her three children were waiting in front of the door.

"If we miss one minute of Ted's graduation, I'll smack your father so hard..." growled Ginny.

Lily giggled. "Daddy in trouble!" she said.

"Daddy's always in trouble," said Harry, who was hopping down the stairs, skipping steps.

"You didn't change your tie," snapped Ginny.

"I decided it matched my eyes," said Harry with what he thought sounded like a wise whisper. "And my socks matched my hair."

Ginny made a quick lunge at him, and he swiftly hopped back.

"Ah ah," he said, wagging his finger. "You'll ruin your dress. Seriously, Ted's graduation isn't starting for hours. We'll be more than early. Let's go."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X**

_For the life of him, he couldn't fathom why he came to that memory right then, in the rain-swept day. It wasn't his fondest memory, wasn't in the top fifty._

_He didn't realise that the funeral was over until a shadow appeared over him. Looking up, he saw Ron standing with only his hand extending towards him. Accepting his hand, Harry got up and they left the tent wordlessly._

_Hermione and the kids were standing in the rain, the kids each with an umbrella while Hermione didn't bother to open up hers. She was already soaked by the time Harry reached her._

_Ron led them to a waiting car, and Harry was grateful that Ron didn't say a word or tried to start a conversation._

_Silence reigned for a great deal of the journey, until he himself broke it by saying he didn't want to go to any gathering that night. Hermione asked if he was sure. He said he was, and she did not press._

* * *

Harry stayed up late, reading asylum requests from wizards and witches from Troy. He was planning to put his opinion that it should be rejected as in his knowledge, Troy never exhibited the actions that the city was accused of. The wizards and witches had escaped from charges of robbery and they were attempting a wild shot at trying to stay in Britain. While the muggle Trojans stupidly got their part of the city destroyed over a woman, Trojan wizards got along splendidly with Achaean wizards at the time.

It was pretty routine, this case. The group would be back in their island before the end of the week.

Harry jotted down a quick comment he needed to send to Denmark's Ministry, before writing down some thoughts on the Clarkson issue. He needed to contact Ted the next day to ensure that he didn't mention something Ted was going to say in defence of his client.

He walked slowly through the deathly quiet corridors, the silence breaking once the elevator he entered cranked into work. He walked by a few security wizards until he passed the fountain and reached the fireplaces. He hopped into one and whispered, "Three Unicorns and a Phoenix bar".

He stepped out into the entrance hallway of a building, with a locked bar to his left. He went to his right, instead, and exited the building into a very quiet street. He walked on cobblestones until he reached a nine or ten storey building.

When he reached his apartment, he paid little attention to the feeling that surrounded him as his security spells gave way to let him through the door.

He threw his coat onto the sofa and went into the kitchen, passing by bare walls. A TV stood at one corner of the room, while a shelf spanned an entire wall, filled with books. The kitchen was filled with pots and pans, and the fridge was stocked with goods as he pulled out a bottle.

He poured out a glass of milk, and went through some mail as he drank slowly. The soft massage of the wind, coming from the open window, on his face let him simply sit back without a thought to his head. After a few minutes, he scribbled a note to Ilena saying he'd be late the next morning and he passed it to an owl, which carried it without much affection nor emotion and hopped out of the window.

Harry then made his way to his bedroom, a small room which had a single bed there. He put his glasses on the stand beside his bed and he undressed and hopped onto his bed.

He could not remember a day that ended differently since... Monotony was his constant companion, the only thing that he had any connection to.

He hated it. The mundane existence, not entering any conversation that was deeper than the mere pleasantries, nor wanting to stay in a crowd longer than would be rude to leave. He no longer knew what it was like to emotionally open up and leave the risk that something could go oh so wrong instead of what he hoped. _He hated it_.

But something else also died that day, his will to connect with others. He didn't even know if it was because he couldn't or wouldn't, but he didn't want anything to do with anyone. What was sweet was now distasteful. Where he was happy before, he could barely remember what the feeling even felt like.

He didn't know how else to live.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X**

Victoire Weasley was in quite a good mood that morning. She had just read her acceptance from Gringotts for a loan for a new store she had been planning for a year or so. She was grateful for living alone because she danced all around her admittedly tiny apartment.

She was stunningly beautiful, perhaps too stunning. She rushed around the apartment to gather what she needed, got dressed and then ran out of the building until she reached an empty alley where she apparated to Diagon Alley.

Victoire was too careless in her rushed walk to the bank, as she knocked down a person. She actually took a few steps further forward, so much in haste she was, before remembering her manners and turning back.

"Merlin's left shoe," grumbled the person angrily. "What on earth was that for?"

"I'm sorry," said Victoire helping the person up. She then got a better look at him; a moderately attractive young man, he was perhaps a couple of years younger than she was she guessed. Standing up, he seemed to exert a level of confidence, which was dampened due to his great annoyance in getting knocked off his feet.

"Now, Miss...?"

"Weasley," said Victoire.

"Sorry," said the man, who's face then split into a wide grin. "You're going to have to narrow which Weasley. There's alot of you, if you didn't know."

"Victoire Weasley," she answered.

"Ah, Percy's child?" asked the man.

"No," she said. "That's Margaret Weasley. I'm Bill Weasley's kid."

"My apologies," he said. "I didn't introduce myself. Colin Thomas."

"I'm sorry," said Victoire. "But I do have somewhere to go."

"Go ahead," said Colin. "My father frequently mentions my long-windedness."

"Since you know of my family," said Victoire, who was already taking a few steps on her way, "perhaps you'll have to tell me who your father is."

"Dean Thomas," said Colin.

Victoire stopped. She slowly turned around. "_The _Dean Thomas?"

"Well, given my skin colour" said Colin, with another grin. "I doubt there's another black Dean Thomas around in Britain who's a wizard."

"Your father is Dean Thomas?" asked Victoire. "The artist?"

"Yep," said Colin. "Surely you must've met him before. He goes endlessly on about your Uncle Ron."

"I've seen him once or twice in family gatherings," said Victoire. "But my father was out of Hogwarts long before your father was in it.

"Are you, too, an artist, by any chance?" asked Victoire.

"Nope," said Colin. "Not in the least. My sister's an architect, but I have no artistic talents whatsoever. I am kinda surprised you know of my father, because he has alot more admirers in the muggle world for his work. And to be honest, that's only relative as he isn't really famous in the muggle world."

"Oh, I've been a fan since my fourth year at Hogwarts," breathed Victoire. "His 'Phoenix Under Water' is one of my favourites of his."

"That ruddy old piece?" scoffed Colin. "That's hanging in my dining room."

"Really?!" asked Victoire in total shock.

"No," said Colin with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "I'm kidding, of course. A wealthy muggle businessman from Australia bought that. Actually paid seriously good money for that.

"You were saying you had something to do?" he continued.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "_Incroyable_."

"You French?" he asked. "Your name, you know..."

"My Mum is," she said. "Can you speak French?"

"I'm learning to," he said. "But it's a no for now. I speak Italian, though. My Dad thought Latin would be helpful with spells, and I simply decided to continue on with the modern Roman language."

"We really need to meet up sometime," she said.

"Perhaps," he replied. "But we'll find each other later. Don't let me keep you longer."

As she left, he made his way to Margin Alley to his office. His boss was apparently looking for him, because Colin didn't even take out his coat as the boss snapped at him.

"I got a letter from Harry Potter," said Ted Lupin. "He said he's giving a friend of the court appearance to Clarkson's trial and doesn't want to step on our way. So I need you to go through the notes provided. I need to prepare the defence."

"Yes, sire," said Colin, not flustered by the rush. "Not sure why we took this case."

"Because everyone deserves a lawyer," said Ted as he walked to his office, and who managed to say before shutting his door, "Unless you're suggesting you can tell who should and shouldn't deserve a lawyer?"

"I didn't say I didn't know why he should have a lawyer," said Colin to no one in particular. "Just wasn't sure why _we_ are representing him."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X**

Ron was really busy, but having to assign some Aurors to escort the four Hungarian wizards over to the Hungarian Ministry was one thing he looked forward to. That was because for some reason nobody knew, there were far too many prisoners in the system at the moment. It was straining the Law Enforcement department and it's budget.

The prisoners from Atlantis were frankly the main problem, led by that Hercule Clarkson. Now, there was no question that the politics in the capital of Atlantis, Caryntin, was very messy and there was severe lack of freedom for the average citizen. But there was no question that Clarkson and his fellow prisoners were criminals of the highest order. From what Ron read in the news over the years, and what he could gather from Harry, he had a great dislike for the dictators running the island.

It was a sad fall. Atlantis, one of the oldest magical lands with continuous magical inhabitants, fell apart politically twelve years prior. A much admired president was captured after a coup by their military division (perhaps equivalent to Britain's Aurors if you must have a comparison) and his execution carried out before the people knew of a coup occurring.

The island fell into a tight grip of control remarkably quickly. Before a resistance could even start, Atlantis had become a police state. Sure, there were resistance groups, to which Harry has quietly told Ron Britain was sending covert assistance, but so far victories were few and far between.

Ron just got word that Harry was making an appearance in the court case, and he wasn't very pleased. Since Ron was going to be asked questions, there was no reason to expect Harry to show up and say what the prosecution was bound to point out. Which only left the option that Harry might say something contrary to the prosecution's views. Had Ron ever read more than just a few muggle books, he'd have been thinking 'eliminate the impossible and whatever is left...', but alas.

That could spark an uproar as wizards and witches were near unanimous in wanted Clarkson gone, the muggle government very concerned about his presence (the Ministry still had to inform the muggles about the presence of all dangerous wizards or witches, which Clarkson and his group most certainly are). The muggles pointed out that from the files they read, it seemed that Clarkson was exceptionally well-connected and had the ability to get out of situations which were impossible for others to escape. Clarkson's dislike of all things muggle didn't help, nor his lack of reluctance in getting any number of muggles killed in his path to getting whatever he wanted.

Clarkson was chaos in the system. He didn't obey rules, nor was he predictable, instead his plans veered wildly in mid-execution. His desires were no different from any petty criminal, money being the main goal, but his means were insane.

* * *

A/N: Do review. I like criticism. No way I'm going to improve without it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**  
**Uncle Harry and the Weasleys**

It was Hugo's birthday that night, and Ron would be damned if it didn't turn out great. This year, he demanded to take over the preparations; Hermione always managed to do most of the work.

It was his twentieth birthday, and Ron intended to make it big. He invited as many people as he could think, and then told Hugo to invite as many people as he could think. Ron then realised that he had to book a place because he didn't know of anyone who would had a house large enough and would be willing to lend it for the night.

Hugo really turned out quite differently from his parents. One could see a bit of her parents in Rose, the fierce determination of her Mum, the desire to seek alternate means to almost any problem of her Dad, and from both the need to state their mind at any moment she could.

But Hugo was different. Hermione loved to say he was like a poker player on autopilot; his face was near expressionless all day. Even when he was having a good time or angry, his emotions would only flicker and his voice almost never wavered. He was shrewd, but no genius like his Mum. He was an open book normally, but he never stood out unlike his Dad. He kept to himself, enjoying the company of others for as long as he deemed it so.

Now, one could wonder if this resulted in Hugo being an outcast, but to the surprise of many, it seemed to only draw people in more. Boys looked up to him at Hogwarts and always wanted to know what he thought of certain things. And the girls... well the ones who managed to avoid falling head over heels for him still seemed to fall under his charm like the boys.

Hugo also seemed to walk through life with a dispassionate view of everything around him. He consistently got very good marks, but never worked harder than enough to get the marks. His mother tried again and again to spark an interest in anything, but he always waved her off by saying he didn't need to at that moment and something would come up in the future. He also disappointed his father in treating Quidditch no differently, training to get into the team and play in matches, but uninterested in Quidditch discussions. He was for going to one or two professional games in a year, but right after the game he was thinking about something else. And while he'd fly alot in the summer holidays, he never was interested in playing Quidditch for fun, save for the few times to ensure he didn't get rusty.

And what would a person like this be doing for work at the age of twenty? Well, you might've guessed he hadn't found a passion yet and had already done a number of different jobs already, despite only graduating three years ago. Right now he was working from the bottom for the Wizardry World Weekly, a magazine on magical news. In nine months here, he got one article and one opinion piece on the magazine, but Hugo said that was good as he _really_ was starting from the bottom.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Soft music was playing in the hall. It was early into the party for anything else.

Harry was standing there, always early to gatherings; that way if he had to leave early, he wouldn't seem rude (or would seem less rude, that is).

"You're early, Uncle Harry," said Rose as she fell into the seat beside him. She patted the chair beside her, Harry obeyed her and sat.

"I realised it when I came in," said Harry. "Although I figured Hugo will more likely want to be with those of his age later on in the party so it's another reason I came early."

"So how are you doing?" said Rose.

"Fine," said Harry noncommittally.

"I hear Mum's been on your case," she said.

"Yep," said Harry.

"She won't let up," said Rose.

"Tell me about it," said Harry.

"Well, she doesn't let up when she doesn't..." said Rose, before giggling at Harry's look at her silly joke.

"How are you doing?" said Harry.

"Wish I could say well," said Rose, "but not really."

That got Harry's attention, and he took one of her hands as he shifted in his chair to face her better. "Tell me all about it."

"I got another rejection letter," she said, looking down at her lap.

"This is your second year trying?" said Harry.

"No," she said. "Third."

"Do you have a back-up plan?" asked Harry.

"Do I look like Hugo?" she asked, before she answered. "No, I don't. I only want to be a Healer."

"Then try again next year," said Harry. "In the mean-time continue on in jobs to pass the time."

"Aren't I wasting time, then?" said Rose.

"Wasting time?" asked Harry. "Rose, you're twenty-two. That's young by muggle standards and we magical people have longer life-spans. Heck I'm a young adult in the magical world.

"If you truly want to be a Healer," he continued, "then it's only a question of how much you're willing to try to get there."

"But I can't get a reference letter from Hogwarts," she said. "And my application doesn't look good enough with three rejections."

"Nah," waved Harry aside. "They're just obstacles, not the source of your problems. You can't get school reference letters? Then work so well outside of school where you can get good reference letters. You've been rejected a few times, try doing something else that'll make your application look better."

"Do something? Like what?" she said.

"Anything," he said. "Travel the world, work in something that you find passion in. Write a book, work with muggles, do humanitarian work... whatever it takes. You'll be surprised with the quality some people come up with when applying for jobs. Two years ago, I was going through applications for assistants for the International Confederation members, and one person was applying as a seventh year at Hogwarts. That person had already traveled extensively, the student also spoke four other languages and had done some summer studies in international relations, muggle and wizardry."

"Did one of the members hire that applicant?" asked Rose.

"Sod the members," said Harry. "I offered her a job. She still works for me."

"So you're saying I need to go overboard?" said Rose.

"No," said Harry. "But if you want it enough, fight hard for it. And if then you still cannot achieve it... well, you may not like it, but you'll have few regrets."

"Any other advice?" she said.

"Yep," he said. "Don't ignore the possibility of having to leave the country to do your studies. You don't have to be trained here. I've met a few wizards and witches who studied to become healers in many places."

"Thanks, Uncle Harry," she said, hugging him.

"Anytime," he said. He looked around and said, "It seems like the party is finally starting. Now you can be with kids your own age and not a cranky old sod like me."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hermione sat in the chair that Rose had vacated.

"So, Mr. Potter," she said. "Giving advice?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Not sure if it was very helpful."

"I'd say it was," said Hermione. "Rose seemed to have taken it positively."

"Nice party," said Harry. "As always."

"Oh, you'll have to send compliments to my ex," she said. "I had nothing to do with this."

"I see," he said. "Where is Ron, by the way?"

"Had to go to the office," she said. "Apparently a prisoner had just attacked another prisoner, and they needed him to fill out some paperwork for the prisoner to see the Wizengamot."

Harry nodded. They sat in silence for a number of minutes, watching the kids (relatively speaking, almost every young person was at least 20. Hugo was one of the younger new generation Weasleys) enjoy themselves on the dance floor. They waved at Dean who had just entered, with his son nearby. Victoire, who was trying to wave away an overly enthusiastic young man as politely as possible, saw them and made her way quickly there.

"Hey Aunt Hermione, Uncle Harry," she said, and they replied warmly back. "Where's Uncle Ron?"

"At work," said Hermione. "He'll be here very soon."

"Oh," said Victoire. "Uncle Harry, you owe me a dance."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Victoire," he said. "I'm not that into dancing."

"_S'il te plait_," said Victoire. "You said last time you'll dance next occasion. Well, _voila_!"

"Go on, Harry," said Hermione. "If you promised, you promised."

Victoire ignored her uncle's groan as he got up and dragged him to the floor. She could tell he was rather uncomfortable with this, and he was honest; even when his family was around he never was comfortable with dancing. The thing was he'd still have some fun despite not doing well.

Victoire was a bit of a nut in the dancefloor. She wasn't a bad dancer, sure, and 'nut' was more to do with her enthusiasm on the floor. Without waiting for Harry to ease in, she moved around rather quick. Harry didn't bother to try to keep up and kept to a more leisurely pace, grinning as Victoire's long red hair nearly hit him in the face. George Weasley decided at that moment to walk by.

"Hey, Harry ol' boy," said George. "I see Viccy has dragged you, too."

Victoire slapped George's shoulder. The music slowed down and someone else came by.

"Mind if I cut in, Mr. Potter?" the person said.

"Colin, it's Harry outside the office at least," said Harry, but he stepped back and waved his hand towards Victoire. "By all means."

"Thanks for the dance, Uncle Harry," said Victoire.

"Anytime," said Harry. "Well not really." Victoire giggled as she turned her attention to Dean's son. Harry stood there for a moment, before realising he had an escape opportunity. Looking around, he made his way to one of the corners of the hall.

That was before a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Not so fast," said Hermione, who seemed to find amusement at Harry's groan. "Since you're here, might's well have a dance."

"Must I?" asked Harry.

"You must," she said, and pulled Harry towards her. She waved at Ron who had walked in at that moment, who waved back and smirked at Harry.

"What do you think of the rumours that our loveable Minister is planning to make further cuts into the services budget while increasing law enforcement budgets?" said Hermione, as she interlocked her arms around his neck.

"What do I think?" said Harry. "It's a bit much, but I see where she's going with it, I just question the logic in what's being rumoured to be proposed. What's idiotic is the stupid idea from our Minister to change Wizengamot rules. Add to the fact she wants to lower the restrictions on Auror investigations and she's going to raise convictions with no correlation to improved policing."

"Well, what are we going to do?" said Hermione. "We're in the International department. We're being run fine. The public are angry with the descent into crime and they want actions. It's going to be unpopular to argue for the other side."

"I'm thinking of moving departments when we're done with the Clarkson affair," said Harry. "To something more domestic."

"Seriously, Harry," said Hermione. "You were working your way up to head of the overall department. Just like with being head of the Auror office years back, you get one or two steps away from overall department head and you're off again?"

"I feel the domestic agenda is now more important," said Harry.

"Even if it is," said Hermione. "You're only going to be able to change things if you get influence, and it's not easy getting more influence if you're hopping departments just when you reach high enough."

"I can't wait on this, Hermione," he said. "She's causing a right mess on this. And we both don't care about popularity because either of us or Ron could've been Minister of Magic years back if that was the case. Though we'd have been rubbish with the lack of experience."

"Just making sure you were aware of the circumstances," said Hermione.

They became silent again, and continued to dance slowly in the hall. Hermione loved how pleasant Harry was when things were superficial and she didn't dare try to get deeper in the middle of a party. She simply enjoyed the warmth in being held by her best friend. As her head lay on Harry's shoulder, she looked around the hall and saw Rose laughing hard at something Ted told her, while Hugo was being mobbed by a few of his friends to do something. Ron was sitting with Fleur and talking, and Marissa was laughing as she ran from an angry Roxanne who was drenched in juice. Roxanne's father, George, only roared with laughter at her.

She got a pang in her heart knowing that the hall was filled with Weasleys and a bunch of friends of the kids that she frankly didn't know most of their names, but still it was empty missing four people. She wondered if Harry walked around this pang all day, or did it come and go.

Harry pulled out as the third song ended. "I think the kids want to have their fun," said Harry. "So, I'll just talk to some of the family before heading home."

"Okay, then," she said, reluctantly pulling away.

"Hugo!" said Harry loudly as he drew his nephew into a tight hug.

"Uncle Harry," said Hugo. "So glad you could make it."

"So, I hear you're working for Wizardry World," said Harry. "How's the experience?"

"Interesting, I guess," said Hugo. "Things are a bit slow for me, but I have to be patient."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I'm thinking of a couple of things that might get me in the news so keep an eye out."

"Hmm," said Hugo. "I'd ask you if you wanted to make a comment, but I'm not going to bleedin walk into the magazine offices with a quote from my uncle. That's not quidditch, and humiliating if I get it wrong. But I'll keep an eye out."

"You know," said Harry, "there's this one girl who's giving me these impatient looks the whole time. Should I leave you?"

"Wha-? No, no, Uncle Harry," said Hugo. "She's got a bit of an... err... liking to me. Problem is I don't know her that well and she's trying to get comfortable pretty quickly."

"You know, apart from the veela-blood trio of your Uncle Bill," said Harry. "You've got the next amount of attention. Shame the rest of your cousins have to live life like normal people with the same lack of attention the world gives us. Speaking of veela-blood, where are your cousins Dominique and Louis?"

"Louis is with the French Quidditch team in their training camp at Geneva," said Hugo. "He's been meaning to come and visit but he couldn't find time off because frankly the security there is pretty tight so close to the World Cup. They can't have security wizards coming and going. Dominique has been called to the shop as her boss is sick tonight. She's closing in an hour and she said she'll come then."

"Come on Hugo," said the impatient girl, tugging at Hugo's sleeve. "You promised me a dance."

With a roll of his eyes, Hugo said his goodbyes with his uncle and was dragged off. Harry felt his glasses get pushed up and his sight suddenly went black and he could feel tight fingers on his eyes.

"Normally I'd guess who this is," said Harry, "but with so many Weasleys around I'd rather not spend the rest of the night guessing."

He recognised the laugh. "Roxanne," he said. "You really need to learn to control yourself if you're trying to conceal yourself."

The fingers lifted from his eyes. He hugged his niece after turning around and took a look at her. It was a bit of a while since he last saw her. No reason why in particular, they just hadn't seem to bump into one another for awhile. This was common with the Weasleys who didn't work in the Ministry; time would pass and he'd realise it was months, or even a year, before he met them.

"Uncle Harry," Said Roxanne. "It's been awhile. How are you doing?" she said, her mood suddenly getting very serious.

Harry found it difficult being short with his nephews and nieces so he always showed he understood their concern and was a bit more forthcoming than the people in his generation whenever they came near to the discussion of his family. However, he still kept a tight lid.

"Okay, I guess," he said with a sigh. "But how is my little professor?" He rubbed her hair like she was some puppy, and she tried to squirm her way out of it.

"Uncle Harry," she said. "I'm still studying some advanced work and taking a part-time assisting professors at Hogwarts. It'll be years before I can even call myself a professor."

"How're the kids in the classes you did teach?" said Harry.

"Not as bad as I feared they would be," said Roxanne. "Though they're so small. I can't believe I was that tiny arriving at Hogwarts."

"Yes, well, Ravenclaws are known midgets," said Harry. "The strain of carrying all those books, you know."

"Rather be a midget than some hero-wannabe Gryffindor rushing into situations making them worse," said Roxanne with a grin. "Though present company excepted."

"Indeed," said Harry. "Boy-Who-Lived and all that bloody goodness. Ah, how popular I was. I had to beat people back with a stick."

"Uncle Ron says you were a twitchy little bespectacled boy who didn't know his arse from his elbow with regards to magic when you came," said Roxanne, "despite looking like a nerd. Uncle George disagrees, he thinks Uncle Ron was being too kind in his description. He told me that in your second, fourth and fifth years there were easily transmittable diseases that were _far_ more popular than you were. "

"Heh, there are rooms filled with things Ron didn't know back then," said Harry. "Yep, one was called the school library. He's no trustworthy source. Uncle George nearly blew up the school right before dropping out. He's not even a source."

Someone hugged Harry from his side tightly. He turned his head and saw it was Marissa.

"Uncle Harry," she said. "You haven't come by the restaurant lately."

"Haven't had many lunch meetings, I guess," he said. "And I didn't trust the ones I did have them with to act properly in a muggle establishment."

"_Uncle Harry_," she said. "Come alone, if you must."

"Alone?" he asked. "Who goes to a restaurant alone?"

"Some people do," said Marissa. "I should know, I cook in one."

"Fine, fine," said Harry, and he laughed at her expression not changing. "Honest."

"Roxanne, where's your mum?" he asked.

"At work," said Roxanne. "She's on the night shift in St. Mungo's today."

Ron came by and slapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Alright?" said Ron.

"Alright," said Harry.

"Listen," said Ron. "I'd like to talk to you tomorrow about work, okay?"

"Sure," said Harry, who looked at his watch. "Look, I think the young ones are raring to have a bit more fun so I'll make my exit."

"Are you sure?" said Roxanne, who hugged him goodbye.

"Yeah, I'm also tired," said Harry. "I'll stop by at Scotland if I ever have time and see you. I'll see you too, Marissa, don't look at me like that. I'll come to the restaurant soon enough. Say bye to those I haven't had a chance to talk to."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.

* * *

**Chapter 5**  
**Political Consideration**

The Daily Prophet was passed around alot in offices, markets and households that day.

_**Harry Potter Speaks In Defence of Hercule Clarkson**_

_In what is being discussed in all levels of the Ministry, and in many Ministries around the world, the head of the__ International Confederation of Wizards division of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, gave today a friend of the court appearance at the Wizengamot._

_Potter told the Wizengamot that since Britain had previously condemned the Atlantean regime of heinous crimes against its people, and hence refused to hand over any Atlanteans who had requested asylum, that they couldn't break that to suit one case. He pointed out this was only a part of an overall agreement the Biritish Ministry along with sanctions to create as much pressure on the Atlantean regime to change or crumble._

_Potter told the Wizengamot that the Atlantean regime could not assure the British Ministry that Clarkson or his supporters would get a fair trial back in Caryntin._

_The Atlantean government had released a short statement to the Prophet just in time for publishing where they condemned Mr. Potter's " egregious error-filled aggressive tones towards the people of Atlantis. This is part of Britain's attempts to take influence, if not control, over Atlantean domestic matters. Clarkson and his ilk are extremely dangerous and must be treated with the full justice of Atlantean law, where the victims of their crimes and their families will see the perpetrators in court."_

_The Wizengamot grilled Potter for over an hour after he gave his statement, with questions ranging from historical precedence in extradition treaties to what was to otherwise be done with Clarkson. Answering a question from what was a clearly frustrated Wizengamot member who wanted to know if this meant Clarkson would be released to the British public, Potter said that it was not his place to discuss local law, as he represented the international scope of the case. However, Potter said that the Swedish Ministry of Magic have made a request for extradition too for alleged crimes committed by Clarkson and his supporters there three years ago. The Swedes, said Potter, we could trust and he would approve of any transfer of Clarkson to the Swedish Ministry with no dispute._

_Clarkson's barrister, Ted Lupin, welcomed the appearance saying that the rules cannot be bent here or there. He said if the rules were to be changed, then others would have to be affected by it, including some of the Atlanteans who live in refuge in Britain. Lupin, coincidentally, is Harry Potter's godson._

_And adding to the family discussion, Potter's brother-in-law slammed him as "naive". Ronald Weasley, head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement released a comment to the Daily Prophet._

_"With such thinking," said Weasley, "anyone who has done anything in a country that we have diplomatic disputes with could conceivably come here and demand asylum. We'd be opening the doors to all sorts of criminals to make a run for Britain as soon as they think they might be caught. The law in this circumstance isn't iron-clad, there's a reason why it was written to leave interpretation to the Wizengamot. Mr. Potter may be right with regards to the international office, but with regards to this case in particular, there is clearly the criminal legal angle to take into account and it is the more important angle to take."_

_Legal experts say that it is still more likely that Clarkson will be sent to Atlantis and this was a procedural discussion that is rather common in legal disputes. "Mr. Potter is not the first to make such a comment," said Neville Longbottom, professor at the Welsh Academy of Magical Law. "Were it not for the already famous aspect of the case in question, nobody would've noticed this as the slightest bit odd."_

_It is the political analysts that are more interested in the matter, because with the current wave of crimes across the nation it was of great risk to Potter''s future political ambitions. "Mr. Potter has already come out against the Minister of Magic's plans to exhibit a tougher stance on crime," said Ernie Macmillan, an political strategist who has worked in three campaigns. "He has left himself open for the criticism of 'soft on crime'. It's going to be very unpopular in the view of the public, looking at polls taken over the past few months. Whether or not Mr. Potter thought this was something right to do morally, it was politically dangerous to his career. I would not have advised him to do this under any circumstances."_

_The Muggle representative to the Ministry of Magic said it was not in the Muggle government's role to interfere in magical matters, but that the Muggle Prime Minister is watching the case very closely._

_Continued at page 3. Opinion pieces at the back pages._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ron sipped his coffee as he read the Daily Prophet. He admired Harry's backbone, but this wasn't the smart thing to do. Ron had tried to speak Harry out of it, but Harry was adamant.

"Explain to me," he said to Harry in the discussion the day after Hugo's party, "how you intend to have any political capital to go against the Minister if you're cutting yourself down with this appearance at the court. Why not let Hermione deal with this?"

"It's the right thing to do," said Harry. "As head of the International Confederation of Wizards office of the British Ministry, I have to state the obvious; Atlantis is run by nuts who we cannot trust to make chicken curry without oppressing some cook than allow a fair court case. As part of a foreign office, I had no choice but to stay true to my position. Besides, if it's really that unpopular, you can't expect me to just dump it on Hermione."

"Well, you're going to make things very difficult with regards to your criticism of the Minister, which I agree with," said Ron. "Soft-on-crime is going to be your new nickname."

"Dumbledore had constant fights with the Ministry and was demoted at the Wizengamot," said Harry. "I can't do things differently there."

"Dumbledore was barking," said Ron.

"You don't really think I won't go?" said Harry.

"No, you're as stubborn as ever," said Ron. "But I thought I'll give it a try. It'll also help when I tell you "I told you so" soon enough."

"Sod off," said Harry. "Look, I'm going to need some support when I start going hard against the Minister. I was telling Hermione I was thinking of moving departments."

"It's not going to help," said Ron.

"What, the support?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron with a raised eyebrow. "The department moving."

"How come?" asked Harry. "If I move departments to a domestic one, I'm thinking rejoining you at Magical Law Enforcement."

"Harry," said Ron, rubbing his eyes. "You're going against the Minister herself. There are career political servants and then there are politicians. You're now a politician, and joining political servants in different departments is as useful as trying to hit on Hermione by showing the flashiness of your car."

"So what am I supposed to do?" said Harry. "Am I going to try to run for Minister?"

"Obviously," said Ron, who then sighed. "Why on earth will the media report on what you say if you're _not_ running for anything? _Harry_, there are people criticising the Minister every day of the week. You're going to be no different unless you choose to go up against her. Then everyone will listen."

"Oh, Ron, but I'm a political servant," said Harry.

"No, Hermione is a political servant," said Ron. "I'm a political servant. You're a politician in political servant's clothing. Always were. I think you already know you had to do this, but you're trying to stall the logical realisation.'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hermione Granger loved being in the muggle world. There was something liberating being immersed in such a massive population. Being too long in the magical world with it's small population can be suffocating for a muggle-born. Most of the wizards and witches raised in magic couldn't understand that reasoning.

She was walking down the crowded pavement in London, looking at stores, trying to see what she could get for Christmas for the muggle raised friends of hers. Mainly Harry to be honest, and Dean amongst a few others.

What does one get someone one knew for so long? Hermione wanted something simple, but something that showed she cared deeply about him. No, a suit won't do, she thought passing a store. Nope, electronics is something she'd give in an ordinary year. No, no, definitely not to anything to do with cooking.

She must've been in the street for an hour, and she really was getting uncomfortable with the cold, so she slipped into a cafe. As she warmed her hands by holding the coffee with both hands while she sat in a corner, she took slow sips of the coffee as she read the day's Daily Prophet (the pictures mercifully still in the muggle environment).

She was concerned at what Harry was getting himself into, but she couldn't resist feeling some pleasure in seeing Harry getting passionate over something.

Hermione spotted Dean sitting in the table with his daughter, with shopping bags around them. She got up and went to them.

"Hermione," said Dean. "Please, sit."

Hermione exchanged greetings with Dean's daughter, Alice, as she sat down. She didn't know Alice that well because Alice spent all her time in the muggle world, not being a witch and all.

"How's your work going?" asked Hermione.

"Not that great at the moment," said Alice. "The property market has become a problem as far as economists keep telling me. What they won't tell me is when I can start expecting orders in designing buildings."

"My sympathies," said Hermione.

"Dad and Colin have been telling me you lot have been having trouble, too," said Alice. "Crime in your case."

"Yeah, it's a bit of a nasty time at the moment," said Hermione. "Have you finished your Christmas shopping?"

"Yes," said Dean. "No, wait, I have one more present to pick up. What about you?"

"I'm finished with the magical gifts," said Hermione. "But I feel like getting muggle gifts for the muggle raised friends, and I'm a bit stuck there."

"So that's me and Harry and..." said Dean.

"A few colleagues at work," said Hermione. "But right now I'm stuck on Harry's gift. I want something simple yet it tells alot."

"And you thought the latest HDTV just didn't seem to show heartfelt emotions?" asked Dean with a chuckle.

"For some reason, I didn't think so," said Hermione with a warm smile. "How's your business going?"

"Okay," said Dean. "I usually get a few requests a month already so things haven't changed there... what are you thinking?"

For Hermione was biting her lip in thought and looking hard at one of the shopping bags.

"Come on, spit it out," said Dean.

Hermione opened her mouth, and then shut it. "I... don't think," she said. "I don't think I can ask you this."

"Go on," said Dean. "The worst you'll get is a 'no'."

"Do you think you can paint a portrait for me?" she said.

"Yes, sure," said Dean. "Why should you hesitate to ask that?"

"As a gift for Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Oh..." said Dean. "Christmas Eve is in four days. It's not the painting that's the problem, I can work for hours straight. It's the inspiration; I need to see an emotional angle before I feel like I'm doing my work justice."

"I know," said Hermione. "It's ridiculous to ask."

"Hmm..." Dean rubbed his chin and said, "You know, I could give it a shot, and if it doesn't work out, you can pick up a coffee machine or something."

"Thanks, Dean," said Hermione.

"But I need to get a feel of the situation before I can paint," said Dean. "And that means I need to talk to you, for quite awhile before something comes in. We could be at it all night."

"Really?" said Hermione.

"Perhaps longer?" said Dean. "Are you still up for it?"

"Yes, yes," said Hermione. "Nothing else will do, now."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," said the clipped voice at the desk.

Harry walked into the office and waited standing.

"Ah, Harry," said the woman at the desk. "Please, sit."

"Thank you," said Harry upon sitting. "What did you want to speak with me, Minister?"

"I rather expected you to figure it was about you appearance at the Clarkson trial, Harry," said the Minister.

"I don't like to assume, Minister," he said.

"I see," she said. "Well, then, where do we start?"

"You called me, Minister," he said neutrally.

"Yes, yes," she said. "Aren't you afraid of the public perception of your stunt?"

"Trying to respect international law is hardly a stunt, Minister," he said.

"Not if you're attacking me on my plans to tackle crime," she said. "Then that's a political stunt. One, though, I find myself baffled as to what you gain from it. It was most unpopular."

"Well, Minister, either I had a political plan or it was purely non-political but a legal discussion of what to do with such a regime," he said. "And if, hypothetically, there was a shrewd political plan in all this, why would I tell you so?"

"I figured that," said the Minister. "I wondered if I could read you."

"Any luck?" he said.

"None, unfortunately," she said.

"Look, I was fortunate to study under Albus Dumbledore," he said. "And if there was one thing I learnt from him, it was to disregard public perception in the pursuit of what is right."

"And where did that leave Dumbledore?" she asked.

"In a position where I wouldn't dream of reaching," he said.

"Are you going to run against me?" she asked.

"Maybe I am, maybe I won't," he said.

"I'll hit you hard on experience," she said. "It won't be pretty."

"Experience?" he asked. "Need I remind you I was in the Ministry under Shacklebolt's leadership while you were still at Hogwarts?"

"Ah, but you haven't headed any department, have you, Potter?" she asked. "I wonder who the people will turn to in such circumstances, the affable, yet mysterious unconnected former hero, or someone who has headed three different departments and been Minister for a few years?"

"If you're trying to somehow intimidate me," said Harry. "Then I must warn you that it is you that is woefully inexperienced in that department."

"No," she said. "I would be a fool to try to intimidate _Harry Potter_."

"Then, pray tell what you called me here for?" he asked.

"I want to make you an offer," she said.

"An offer?"

"Yes," she said. "How about you join me in the next election?"

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, like he wasn't sure if the punchline was yet to come. "Why would I want to join you if I grossly disagree with you?"

"It's logical," she said. "If you go up against me in the next election and I win handily, that's the end of your political career for the next election or two, if you ever recover. That could be fourteen years, maybe even much longer. By then who knows if you'd even want to be Minister. But if you join me, I'll make you Advisor to the Minister, a most powerful position as you must be well aware of. And when I step down, you'd be one easy step to taking over and doing the change you want. Now, you can either risk it all to attempt to get the Minister job now, or you can be patient and get it for sure five to seven years from now. Which is it?"

"Well thought out argument," said Harry. "Tempting, I must admit. There's just one small problem."

"And that is?"

"I have no interest whatsoever in advising you for even five years," said Harry, "to only watch you take the politically expedient choices time and time again."

"You're not going to even think about it?" asked the Minister.

"Oh, I have," said Harry. "I don't take too long to make decisions, you see."

"And it's a no?"

"Yes, it's a definite no," said Harry. "In fact, I think you've only strengthened my resolve to fighting you."

"I'd be impressed at your commitment," said the Minister, "if I wasn't stunned by your short-sightedness. You'll regret this soon enough. I have deep connections politically and we'll see to it that we're thorough in our victory."

"Go right ahead," said Harry, who had gotten up and was on his way to the door. "But you're not as confident as you try to appear as if you are."

"Really?" said the Minister. "And how did you figure that out?"

"A person doesn't get to your position without having to owe alot of people alot," said Harry at the door. "And being Advisor to the Minister is a perk usually given to political allies. To offer it to a possible opponent shows you're concerned enough to risk losing some support to remove said opponent from your way. You've played your hand a bit too much.

"I'll see you on the trail."

With that, Harry left the room, shutting the door before the Minister could say another word.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Oh Merlin's beard, Dean," sighed Hermione. "It's been four hours already."

"Don't worry Hermione,' said Dean, laying on the couch. "You're lucky I've known you and the person you want to give the portrait for years. This part takes a few days normally. I think we're doing well."

They were sitting in Dean's studio, which really looked like a living room with art supplies all over, in Dean's house. Hermione was sitting in the chair across from Dean.

"Aren't I supposed to be in the couch at least?" she asked.

"I'm not psychoanalysing you," said Dean. "So no. More wine?"

"_Please_," she said, raising her glass.

"So, let's recap shortly," he said. "You want something for Harry to look at and feel nostalgic about?"

"Yes," she said.

"How about him or something he holds dear the past decade?" asked Dean.

"He lost his family this past decade," she answered.

"How about a portrait of his family?" he asked. "I could pull most of that off through memories and some pictures with not much difficulty."

"Too soon," said Hermione, her hair moving over her eyes as she shook her head. She brushed her hair back.

"Fine then, as a young adult?"

"Not much happened then," said Hermione. "We were carefree youngsters really."

"Carefree is good," said Dean. "Never underestimate carefree. Too many people wish they could be carefree.

"But we'll move past that for a moment," he continued. "How about you as teenagers?"

"No," said Hermione. "He was going up against Voldemort and lost people then. It wasn't that happy a time. I want him to feel good about what he was seeing. Something... innocent."

"How about younger than that, then?" said Dean.

"The Dursleys were brutes," said Hermione. "Who'd feel good about that?"

"No, older than that-"

"I just said-"

"Let me finish-"

"Sorry-"

"You're still not letting me finish-"

"Really sorry-"

"_Still_," he said and paused until she didn't say anything. "No, I meant after the Dursleys and before fighting Voldemort... it was what? Three school years?"

"I'd say four," she said.

"There you go," he said. "Tell me about his four years then."

"All four years?" asked Hermione. "We'll be here all night."

"Don't worry, the wine will flow," said Dean. "Don't look at me like that. You decided to drop this on me right before Christmas. If you wish to go home, I could make a portrait in time for New Year's Day."

"Fine, _fine_," said Hermione. "Where should I start?"

"From the beginning," said Dean."From the middle, I don't care. I'm trying to get a feel for your emotions and what you're feeling from what you're trying to say. Go chronologically, or simply whatever pops into your head. I'm an artist, not a biographer. Don't skip things, assume I'm hearing the details for the first time."

"Well, Harry stopped Voldemort from getting the Philosopher's Stone from the Mirror of Erised... the Mirror being something that shows your deepest desires... well, he stopped Voldemort from getting it, though Dumbledore had a plan preventing that from happening so it was futile really. Harry had his first true friends in me and Ron and I suppose me and Ron gained our first true friends as well. In our third year, he finally won his first Quidditch Cup, he's really good at it, you know. In his second year, he was alone with the school suspicious of his Parseltongue... well he wasn't completely alone, he had me and Ron.

"He was alone from Ron in our fourth year, due to Ron's stupid jealousy," she continued. "But he was cut from me in our third year because I insisted Sirius could've sent the Firebolt to him. I was right, but wrong on the intentions, but we weren't speaking. I felt so bad then that I wondered if I should just admit error so I could be back with him.

"He escaped from the Dursleys in his second year on a flying car the Weasleys had. He helped free Dobby. In his third year, he found his godfather, a tie to his parents, not to mention dear Lupin... wait, why are you smiling?"

"I think I had a Eureka moment," said Dean. "It's simple, oh so simple. Can you provide me with pictures of many of these things and descriptions of things you don't have a picture of?"

"So I can shut up now?" said Hermione hopefully. "I'll throw in extra pics just to sweeten the deal."

"No, absolutely not," said Dean. "You're on a roll, go on."

Hermione groaned and threw a cushion at Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: This chapter goes back and forth in time, so keep that in mind as you read it. I was tempted to write in the dates so people could find it easier, but I realised that if I write it well enough it should be clear.

* * *

**Chapter 6**  
**Christmas**

_He loved it when she laughed. It sounded so... so... contagious was the word? After so many years, he's even been able to distinguish the laughter. They were mostly one of three types; there was the laughter when she wasn't in the mood and was trying hard not to laugh, then there was the laughter when something very funny happened. The latter was the most common one. But the third one was Harry's favourite, and that was when Ginny laughed for no reason other than being very, very happy._

_He first heard this laugh when he was twenty-six and they were on a boat in Bermuda. The sun was high up in the sky and there was brilliant blue sea as far as his eyes could see in all directions. It was a wondrous sight. With the waves splashing on the side as the boat sped through the waters, Ginny stood up and her hair flying back let out an almost musical laugh that Harry could only look at her and wonder if she lost it. She leaned over to Harry and pulled him from the back of his neck and grabbed his lips with hers._

_"I love you," she said with all the intensity she could muster._

_People frequently remember the major events, but it's the minor, almost unimportant moments that get to you when a person is no longer there._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Harry was having a good dream about something. Before, that is, he was rudely awakened by a slamming door and a weight that fell on his chest. He exhaled loudly while trying to push the weight off. Beside him, he could feel his wife growling with groggy anger._

_"Albus, get off!" said Ginny, one of her moving arms hitting Harry above his left eye._

_Harry looked, while rubbing his head, at Lily who was on him._

_"Lily, dear," he said. "The sun has barely rose, and you know your Mum can be cranky at this hour."_

_"It's Christmas, daddy," she squealed._

_"Yes, I know," said Harry. He saw James, then 11 years old, leaning on the door, smirking. "You could've stopped them, you know."_

_"I tried," said James, shrugging._

_"Off! Off!" said Ginny loudly. "Otherwise I'm burning your presents in the garden."_

_That got the kids running._

_As they sat in the living room, Harry let Lily be the first to open up one of her gifts._

_"Dad," she said, rotating the small broomstick in her hand. "How high can this one go?"_

_"One metre only, dear," said Harry. "Go on Albus."_

_Albus was grinning when he saw he got a magical watch, while James said a polite thank you for the book on Grindelwald's rise and fall._

_Ginny and Harry sat back quietly as they enjoyed the looks of joy on their children's faces. The children didn't ask about their parents' presents, because for as long as they remembered, their parents never opened their gifts on that day._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ron woke up early that Christmas morning and was at the house around 7 in the morning. He took out a key from a jacket pocket and let himself in. He quietly took out his jacket and removed his scarf and hung them on the hooks beside the door. Kicking his boots on the door before entering to remove as much snow as he could, he removed his boots then.

The house was very cozy with the previous night's fire still burning bright in the fireplace. A large tree filled with ornaments sat at a corner, while a small pile of presents lay beneath it. He sat in the seat closest to the fireplace and let himself be bathed with the warmth. He stared at the fire with a light-headed mind, somewhere between sleep and awake. He didn't know how long he sat there, but the sun was brighter by the time he stirred when he heard someone coming down the stairs.

"Dad," said Hugo. "You came early."

"Woke up early and I couldn't go back to sleep," said Ron.

"Want something for breakfast?" said Hugo.

"Yes, but only if you're making something for yourself," said Ron.

"Sure," said Hugo. "I was planning to make pancakes and prepared last night. Good for you?"

"Definitely," said Ron.

He remained in front of the fire while his son made the breakfast. Very soon, the thick aroma wafted to all corners of the room, and Ron knew it was a matter of time before the girls upstairs were woken up by it.

He wasn't wrong. Not long after, he heard doors open and shut and then the creaking of the stairs as Rose, first, and then Hermione came down.

"Merry Christmas, Dad," said Rose. "Oooh, pancakes."

"Hang on, woman," said Hugo. "I'm making a stack so no-one eats before everyone gets their share first."

"It smells brilliant, as always," said Hermione, giving a kiss on Hugo's forehead. "Don't you two want to see your presents?"

"No," they both said, and Rose continued, "Important things first, like food."

"How you change when you grow up," said Hermione. "Ron, don't you remember when we had to drag these two away from their presents to eat anything?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Sometimes we had to bring the food into the living room just to get them to eat."

"Oh hush," said Rose, who then looked serious. "Did you get Uncle Harry to come?"

"No," said Ron. "We tried and tried, but he was adamant. He said Christmas was for close family and he didn't want to intrude." Ron raised his hands at the comments his children were about to make. "I know, I know," he said. "But he's not changing his mind. He says he has he'll have his own Christmas on his own and he'll meet us for the dinner tomorrow night."

"How is he ever going to rejoin us if he avoids even the slightest of family contact with meaning?" asked Rose.

"Believe me, I've kept asking myself that," said Ron.

"I'm beginning to think that's precisely what Harry is trying to avoid," said Hermione. "Rejoining the normalcy of life. I think he may be of the impression he'd be in a way betraying them if he moved on. Almost as if he'd be forgetting them."

"Sit," said Hugo laying down plates. "I'm done."

"I'm not sure what we're supposed to do," said Hermione with a sigh midway into breakfast.

"Are we supposed to really do anything?" said Hugo.

The other occupants of the table just looked at him.

"Hear me out," he said. "You're assuming that Harry has to be somehow changed back or something."

"Do you have rocks in your head, lad?" said Ron. "As opposed to what, leaving him as is?"

"Well, yeah," said Hugo. "You're assuming that him changing wasn't right. All I'm saying is he didn't decide to change, the situation caused him to. Maybe this is the only way he knows how to cope with it all. Who are we to tell him what to do or not to do?"

"We're not trying to tell him anything," said Hermione. "We're trying to coax him into letting us into his life. Is that wrong?"

"Not to me," said Hugo. "But maybe, just maybe, Harry doesn't feel comfortable with that. Maybe he wants to, but just feels so hurt that he can't."

"And that's what friends are for," said Ron. "To help when he cannot."

"What are you trying to say, Hugo?" asked Rose. "That Mum and Dad just give it up?"

"No," said Hugo, "but to realise that there may be a reaction if he feels he's getting stifled when he wishes to be reclusive. Any attempt may only serve to push him further back into his solitude."

"Okay, that makes a bit of sense," said Rose.

"We have to work on his schedule, not ours," said Hugo. "We may have to wait for years longer before he settles a bit, and we may never get him to get as comfortable as he was before. In fact, I doubt it. He's lost people in seemingly every stage of his life, people as close as family you've told me. He may always be somewhat distant. But we have to work with what he offers us. Until then, perhaps we should simply show we're there for him, whenever he wants to do something."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The rays of sunlight managed to squeeze through the curtains and fall right on Harry's face. He groaned, tried to roll over but was too comfortable right where he was. Yet the light on his eyes were too distracted to go back to sleep. So he lay there, for an indeterminable length of time, basking the warm feeling of not having anything to do that day, it being Christmas and all.

When he could lay no longer, he groggily got to his feet. He stretched his arms, let out a loud and long yawn, and then picked up his glasses from the stand beside his bed.

The streets around his house was deathly quiet, people not yet up he supposed. The soft ticking of his clock was the only thing that broke the silence before Harry got to making breakfast.

The crackling of the heated oil filled the kitchen while the beautiful smell of the omelette soon after as Harry stood in front of the stove. He leaned over to the counter and flipped on the TV in the living room. The kitchen had a counter that had the kitchen and living room linked. Flipping the channel to the news, Harry then turned back to the pan and sprinkled a small amount of shredded mozzarella cheese on the egg. He then folded the omelette and lifted it up with spatula and dropped it onto the waiting plate. The toast then popped out of the toaster and he spread butter on it, while his eyes were still on the television.

He sat down on the couch with a cup of black tea and his plate and he quietly ate his breakfast.

He did all this without saying a word. And he paid no attention to the pile of presents that lay under the open window. He didn't open presents that day, anyways.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

There were far too many Weasleys for them to hop around and visit in Christmas afternoons like they wanted to, so some time before one of them came up with the idea of all meeting up on Boxing Day afternoon for a large dinner, and they've been doing so ever since.

That year, it was Bill and Fleur's turn to host the Christmas dinner. A large tent was put out in the garden, and just like Harry saw in the summer of his fourth year, the inside of the tent was exponentially larger than the exterior upon entering it. Three long tables were set out in a parallel manner with comfy looking chairs on either side of each table.

Harry was the last to arrive that afternoon, but they hadn't started eating then. Instead, everyone was still in the garden outside conversing.

David, Charlie's son, was showing the other Weasleys who weren't born into muggle-experienced households the beauty of football. Charlie's wife, Alice, was a muggle and she wanted her children to have as much muggle experience as they could get.

"So, you're saying you kick the ball?" said Anthony Weasley, Percy's youngest son, skeptically. "You don't even throw it. You use your... feet?"

"Yeah," said David, nodding enthusiastically. "That's what makes things extra fun."

"Crazy, more like," said Fred, George and Angelina's son. "We have Quidditch for that."

"Aunt Ginny would understand, right Uncle Harry?" said David.

Harry stiffened noticeably and everyone watch cautiously at him (while one or two threw dirty looks at David). Harry shook his head softly and seemed to regain some control.

"Yes," he said. "She was a Fulham fan, along with Albus. I never really got that, to be honest. They were nuts."

"Food's ready," said Fleur, coming out of the tent. Seeing Harry, while everyone was entering the tent, she walked over and kissed his cheeks. Harry didn't see behind him was Marissa slapping David in the back of his head. "Ah, Harry! So good to see you. _Ça va_?"

"_Bien_, Fleur," he said. "How are you doing?"

"Trying to cope with the kids being old enough that they no longer need me," she said.

"Your food smells great," he said. "Let's go in before they leave nothing for you and me to eat."

When Harry entered, the only free seat, apart from the one beside Bill which was for Fleur, was in very end of the table to his right and was surrounded by the newer generation of Weasleys. Smiling at his fortune of not having to discuss Christmas with the older adults, he walked trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. But two steps before reaching the chair, it levitated off the ground and moved. Harry looked up and rolled his eyes.

"Sit with us, Harry," said Hermione, utilising a bit of wandless magic.

Harry obeyed, without saying anything. He sat between Fleur and Percy.

"Harry," said Percy warmly. "How are things in the Ministry?"

"Bloody mad if you ask me," said Harry. "What's up with the Cleansweep company?"

"We're coping for now," said Percy. "But so far we haven't been able to break into the Nimbus and Firebolt market."

"Let them have that part of the market," said Harry. "You can be the company for affordable, reliable broomsticks for the average family. Few can afford a Nimbus and even fewer the Firebolt. They make money because they're so expensive despite their lower sales. You make money by selling to the not rich consumers."

"I know," said Percy. "But the board keeps wanting to compete with them. Ten years ago we were at the top of the game with the Cleansweep Sapphire, and the board wants to get right back up there. We should try, but right now we have some financial troubles and can't afford such adventurous risks. But enough about me. Some contacts in the Ministry have told me you've unofficially become opposition to the Minister number one."

"Afraid so," said Harry. "I had a meeting with her which didn't go very well."

"It is a risk," said Percy. "The Minister has a decent enough support that historically means she should win in a simple election. People don't normally vote for someone new if they're comfortable with who they have."

"I know it's a risk," said Harry. "And the Minister even offered me support for a future election if I sat this one out. But I can't let the new ideas come to pass, they're idiotic."

"Just wanted to make sure you know exactly what you're getting into," said Percy. "I've worked in a few election campaigns and can recognise a..."

"A long shot," said Harry.

"Don't worry, though," said Percy. "You'll find some support immediately. The Minister enjoys moderate approval, not wide love. Some wealthier wizards and witches are still furious at her opening the doors for foreign muggle goods to be purchased here while not being aggressive in negotiating for muggle goods made here to be imported overseas. This has given a massive strain on their relationship with muggle business partners and they'll throw backing to you without hesitation, just to get revenge on her."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Harry. "Thanks."

"How do you like your presents this year?" said Percy.

"Haven't opened them yet," said Harry.

Percy nodded with his smile disappearing. "I see," he said. "Keeping the tradition alive." He said nothing more after that. For that, Harry was grateful.

Harry ate in silence for the rest of the meal, allowing the buzz of conversation from all around him to immerse him. Fleur was a very good cook, and he could detect some of Marissa's dishes too. The inside of the tent was decorated lovingly and the tent itself had lots of colours splashed all over, giving a sense of chaos yet childlike enthusiasm to the whole interior.

All he could wonder was what he could do to compare next winter, because the rotation of the Christmas dinners was supposed to fall on him and Ginny. He had no intention of passing on it, no matter what others may suggest. It was odd, but since it was something he and Ginny agreed to before she... died, he felt he couldn't go against her wishes with her not around.

He'll think of something, he decided as he tore into a chicken leg.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Harry had his eyes closed as he lay on the beautful beach and bathed in the sun, but detected someone was standing to his side when the book that lay oh his chest was taken off. He then felt a weight on him and a kiss was planted on his lips. The kiss slowly worked it's way to his cheek, and then slowly to his ear and then it returned to his lips. His eyes never opened._

_"Ay mamcita," he whispered when his lips was free. "Perhaps we should head to a room, before my wife returns."_

_She giggled, and rolled over Harry to lay beside him._

_"We have got to come to such a place more frequently," she sighed. "Christmas on a beach, you cannot beat that. Promise me we'll do this again some day."_

_They lay in silence as the sounds of the waves, not to mention the number of people around them, set the mood for a relaxing moment. After some time, Harry could've sworn someone was saying his name. He finally opened his eyes and saw someone coming to him quickly._

_"Ginny," he said as he shook her. She lazily slapped his arm to go away. "No, someone's coming."_

_Harry leaned to pick up his glasses, and recognised the person when he had them on. The person was someone they got to know in the island, named Michael King. He was from... where did he say he was from? North Carolina, that's what he said._

_"Hey," said King. "I was looking all over for you."_

_"I'm usually at the beach," Harry said. "And this woman is usually at the bar."_

_Ginny slapped him harder this time._

_"Well, I know of this party going on at a yacht," said King. "And I thought you two would get a kick out of that."_

_Harry and Ginny looked at each other and communicated wordlessly. Now, they normally didn't go for that, but there was a reason why they decided to travel and it was to try new things. Ginny cocked her head to the side, and Harry shrugged. Having finished their conversation, Ginny responded._

_"We'd love to," she said. "When does it start?"_

_"Some time tonight," said King. "But we're going to have to be ready in an hour and a half."_

_"Fine," she said._

_"Remember," said King. "The person hosting the party is a very, very, wealthy person, so be prepared for the sort of people around."_

_"We have experience," said Harry. "Trust us."_

_The party didn't go exactly as they thought, but that doesn't mean it went badly. As they returned to their room, laughing as they walked in, they had spent a total of two days on the yacht. They left on Christmas Eve and had returned in the afternoon of Boxing Day._

_"That was," said Ginny as she stumbled trying to take off one of her shoes while standing up, "one of the craziest experiences I ever had."_

_"When the party continued at noon of Christmas day and the yacht only seemed to go further towards the ocean, I thought for a moment we were being kidnapped," said Harry. "But I wasn't concerned as we had our trusty wands."_

_"That's why you asked me whether I brought my wand along?" asked Ginny, who chuckled. "Who on earth knew we were going to Bermuda, and who would go through the trouble of getting one hell of a yacht to try to kidnap us?"_

_"Bloody hell, was that a large boat," said Harry, who was removing his shirt. "Goodness, I thought we were on an aircraft carrier. And it belonged to one person? We should go into business."_

_"Unbelievable," said Ginny. "And we got to travel on a helicopter to and from the yacht. Wow."_

_"We haven't had a chance to open the presents," said Harry._

_"Let's do so now," said Ginny. "It was worth it."_

_And with them still wearing half the clothes they walked in with, they went to the pile of presents sitting under the presents. Thus, this started the most peculiar of traditions where Ginny and Harry opened their presents on Boxing Day evening. Even when they got kids, who opened theirs on Christmas Day, Harry and Ginny waited for Boxing Day evening to open their presents. It allowed them some private time to themselves which they never tired of._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Late that night, after Bill and Fleur's Christmas dinner, Harry entered his apartment. He took off his shoes, went into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He received no letters while being out. He took the bottle with him and sat at the living room, and finally paid attention to his presents. One was much larger than the others, about half the height of the room, and was a flat board-like shape. On it was a short note.

_To Harry, with lots of love.  
Hermione_

He left that one for the end. He opened Ron's present first, and found a album-book filled with Weasley pictures. Harry appreciated the effort it took Ron to get the pictures from all the Weasleys and then pick out the ones he thought were the best (Harry could tell there were far more pictures for all the Weasleys compared to the, admittedly alot, ones in the album). He put the album on the fireplace.

He went through the others, and found a few that he loved and a few that he wondered what was the thinking behind them. Almost all, though, showed care and he was grateful for that. Only one present was left, and it was the extra large one from Hermione. He wasn't sure if he was going to like it; he normally realised that the best gifts he got were usually small ones. Like Ron's one, for example.

Still, he opened it and saw a peculiar sight. He wasn't sure what it was, as the light was so dim and no fire was started in the fireplace. He raised his wand, the light switch across the room was pushed to on, and the living room brightened. He got to his feet to get a better look.

The writing on the edges only confirmed Harry's immediate thought what it was. It was a beautiful representation of it, but he knew Hermione was no artist. He looked at the bottom right corner, and as he suspected he found Dean's signature symbol. Dean never saw the mirror, it was obvious from the drawing, but it was remarkably similar to how the Mirror of Erised looked like.

In the painting of the mirror stood three youths. Harry was in the middle and he had his arms on Ron and Hermione on either side of him. All three were laughing at something, and they were standing beside one of the large trees near the Great Lake. They looked around twelve, or thirteen, but he wasn't sure.

It was a beautiful painting, and it really looked like it was an image from the mirror. It did lack the extra work Dean takes on making the painting as realistic as possible (perhaps the painting was made in a shorter period of time than Dean usually took, Harry didn't know), but even then it only served to make it look more impressive; it appeared more like a memory and less like a photograph.

Harry got a fire started, and switched off the light, and stared at the painting for a good portion of the night as he let himself enter the realm of memories, with only the drink in his hand.

* * *

A/N: For some reason, I found it a bit more difficult to write this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**  
**Beginning**

Harry wasn't in a good mood that day. He had just read an article on him in the Daily Prophet where he was skewered for his approach in coming out as an opposition to the Minister. Seriously, he didn't have any staff yet and he's already had to deal with fires. Ilena worked with today with solemn silence unless she had to say something work-related, it was almost as if someone died.

"Okay, this is ridiculous," said Harry after four hours of Ilena tip-toeing around Harry with her demeanor. "I just got one bad article. It's happened before, you know."

"Oh," said Ilena, flustered. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't need to," said Harry. "You look like you're in mourning. Speak up."

"I'm just wondering... sir..." she said, pausing now and again. Harry's raised eyebrow pushed her to continue, "whether you've lost your mind or not. Sir."

"Now that's better," said Harry, going back to his notes. "And no."

"Good to know," said Ilena. "I didn't want to go job-hunting at the moment."

"Very funny," said Harry dryly. "If I win, you may be going job-hunting anyways."

"In that case, sir," said Ilena. "I know my job is safe."

She brought out an envelope, and put it on Harry's desk. Harry opened it, and found a short note.

_Harry,_

_I found a possible source of support to begin with. Will arrange an afternoon meeting if you're not busy._

_Reply quick._

_Percy_

Harry scribbled a quick note saying he was free.

"Ilena," he said. "When you're going to put some paperwork of yours in delivery, could you put this along as well? It's to Percy Weasley in the Cleansweep company."

"Sure," said Ilena. "I have some letters I need to send anyways."

She left the office to do the job. The door swung open after a moment.

"Forgot something to mail?" said Harry.

"Nope," said the voice at the door. Harry looked up.

"Hermione," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Just wondering what you thought about the present," she said.

"I loved it," said Harry. "Thank you so much."

"I'm going for lunch," she said. "Want to join me?"

"Yes, just give me a moment," said Harry, who stacked a few pages of parchment and put the stack into a folder. He scribbled a quick note for Ilena and left it at her desk. "I told Marissa I'd come to her place, would that be fine for you?"

"Sure," said Hermione.

As they sat in the restaurant looking at the menu, which was in a muggle location (it was a muggle restaurant which wizards and witches would come to as well), they continued the small talk.

"Did the kids enjoy their presents?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione. "They liked yours, too."

It was a small restaurant, one of those establishments you walk by without realising a few times before you stop one day and wonder if you should give it a chance. A waiter stopped by and asked if they knew what they wanted.

"Is Marissa cooking today?" asked Harry.

"Yes, she is," said the waiter.

"Could you tell her Uncle Harry says to surprise him?" he said.

"Along with his companion?" said Hermione.

"Sure," said the waiter. "And to drink?"

A moment after the waiter entered the door to the kitchen, they saw Marissa's head stick out. Upon seeing them, she grinned and went back in.

"Percy's got me for a meeting with a potential supporter," said Harry.

"That quick?" said Hermione. "Either he's very good, or the Minister has her enemies."

"I know," said Harry. "Though I bet I'm going to have my enemies and I haven't had a high-profile job like her."

"Have you come up with a plan yet?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry truthfully. "I'm making it up as I go along. I've talked to a few people in the Prophet to prepare an interview when I think I'm ready."

"You're going to need a staff," said Hermione. "Campaign manager, communications and so on."

"I'm already considering someone for one of the jobs," said Harry.

"Really?" said Hermione. "Who?"

Harry looked at her, opened his mouth and then shut it.

"Come on," she said. "Spill."

His pause lengthened.

"I'm..." he said. "I don't think I should say so right now. I haven't asked him yet and he should be the first to know."

"Fine," she said. "I understand."

They stopped talking as the waiter brought a tray of the food, and they went to work on it.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Where is that man?" said Percy in annoyance.

"Sorry," gasped Harry, who looked like he ran his way up to there. "I couldn't get out of a meeting with someone."

"Well, next time get out of the meeting," said Percy. "When you're meeting a supporter, especially for the first time, you never want to insult them by being late. Don't burn bridges with the money source."

"Sorry," said Harry.

"Never mind," said Percy. "Let's not keep him waiting."

They entered the lobby of a hotel.

"Could you tell me why we're meeting in downtown London?" Harry asked. "In a hotel, no less."

"The person doesn't want to be seen with you before he's decided to support you," said Percy as they made their way through the lobby to the restaurant across. "And since the person is a pureblood, then being in muggle environment is rather fitting in not being seen by the people he usually associates with."

"You said money source," said Harry. "Right now I'm starting my way through. I'm not thinking money yet."

"You're going to have to think about money from day one, Harry," said Percy.

"Yes, but I don't want to risk showing my hand this early for a Galleon."

"Trust me," said Percy. "With this guy, you won't be needing money for the first month. You'll have the resources to start your campaign and look for other support more subtly."

"That deep pockets?" said Harry.

Percy nodded, and then nodded towards in front of him. Harry looked forward, but couldn't see who was being indicated. He kept looking as they continued to walk, moving around and through people. He glanced to his right and left and couldn't see anyone who stood out. Until...

"Him?" said Harry, raised eyebrows.

"Him," said Percy. "The Minister's previous legislation has resulted in him having to fire half of the workers in one of his companies."

"What Minister goes about angering company owners?" asked Harry. "That doesn't strike me as smart."

"She's got support from others," said Percy. "Also, she feels like she had little choice, and it was made easier with her having few opponents of the stature to defeat her."

"So you want me to side with them for economic reasons," said Harry. "So I can get to go up against her in crime legislation?"

"Hmmm," said Percy in the affirmative, but he could say no more as they reached the table.

"Harry Potter," said the person at the table. "Never thought this would come about."

"Neither did I," said Harry. "Neither did I."

"Funny, what politics throws together," said the person.

"I wouldn't know up until now," said Harry. "But I'm beginning to understand it if I'm asking for help from Draco Malfoy."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ron rushed down the hall, pushing past every person who stood in his way. He reached the cell in question and stopped in front of it. A small group of guards surrounded the cell-door.

"Could someone explain what the hell happened here?" he said.

"Sir, the prisoner somehow got access of a guard's wand while being transported to the dining hall," said a guard. "And we had to stop him."

"And this is one of the Atlantean prisoners?" said Ron. "What's the status on the guard?"

"He's in St. Mungo's," said the guard.

"I'm sending some extra Aurors here," said Ron. "I do not have jurisdiction in giving orders in Azkaban, but I suggest you keep constant vigilance on the Atlanteans as the trial continues. The Aurors to come will have one role and it is to assist in guarding this group, and _no other_."

"Yes, sir," said the guard.

"Don't let me keep you, then," said Ron.

As Ron walked out, he saw Clarkson seated quietly in his cell. Emotionless, almost serene, he sat facing the wall. He showed no indication he noticed anything that was happening outside nor of Ron passing by, but Ron knew he was watching.

"Try that again," said Ron, growling across the bars. "And I'll find a reason to snuff you with a spell and claim self-defence in my report."

Clarkson did not turn, did not show that he heard. He continued to stare at the wall ahead. His black hair was flecked with white, his face wrinkled making him look older than he was, and his brown eyes alight.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"So, you're committed to the fight ahead?" said Malfoy. "I have no interest in showing public support to you, only to watch you fold at the first sign of pressure. It's going to get ugly, and I want to know you know that."

"My stubbornness hasn't lessened," said Harry.

"You think the Minister is going overboard with the crime legislation," said Malfoy.

"Yes, I think this will only serve to wreck people with harsher sentences than considered acceptable," said Harry. "It's reactionary. You don't have a problem with that?"

"Of course not," said Malfoy. "With some of these legislations, I would've been locked up in Azkaban for a good number of years myself after the Voldemort war. All I want is your assurance that you'll fight to send some of Britain's goods overseas or show the same resistance in letting their goods in as they do to ours. That's good enough for me."

"That, I can assure you of," said Harry.

"Contact me as soon as you're ready for a fundraiser," said Malfoy. "I know of some people who wouldn't hesitate but throw support behind you."

"Much appreciated," said Harry.

"It's mutual," said Malfoy. "Trust me. Since we've gone past politics, would you like something to eat?"

"Just ate, sorry," said Harry. "But I could do with some coffee."

"Coffee it is," said Malfoy. "Staying, Weasley?"

"I want to," said Percy, looking at his watch. "But I have a meeting to get to."

"I'd like to have a word with you when you're free," said Harry.

"Sure," said Percy. "I'll contact you."

"Harry Potter," said Malfoy, leaning back and sipping his coffee. "Who would've thought we'd be working on the same side on something?"

"Not me, for one," said Harry. "How are the wife and kids?"

"They're fine," said Malfoy. "Astoria is doing fine, and Scorpius is in Auror-training."

"You better hope he doesn't bump into Ron anytime soon," said Harry.

Malfoy chuckled. "I told him to try to avoid Weasley, though the head won't be concerned with recruits."

"You would hope so," said Harry.

"I hope you're doing well, though," said Malfoy.

"I'm..." said Harry. "... okay."

"It's not my place to pry," said Malfoy. "And I won't."

"I've got to go," said Harry. "I have to talk to someone about something."

"Hope to meet you later on," said Malfoy. "When it'll be harder to catch a moment with you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They sat in a bar that was crowded. Harry set down his Butterbeer.

"So," said Percy. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I'm not going to beat around the hippogriff," said Harry. "I want you as my campaign manager."

"Harry," said Percy, putting down his drink. "I'm flattered, really. But I have a stable job. I'm tired of the hectic life of politics."

"I don't know anyone else more suited to helping me," said Harry. "Besides, you miss it. Otherwise you'd have simply told me to arrange a meeting with Malfoy and left it at that. Instead you arrange the meeting and came along."

"Perhaps I wanted to ease my brother-in-law into it," said Percy.

"Was that what you wanted to do?" asked Harry, who didn't say anything as Percy didn't answer at first, waiting until Percy opened his mouth to speak again.

"Okay, no," said Percy. "I wanted to see it in action, but only for a bit."

"Come on," said Harry. "Win or lose, you can always go back to your normal job. But if you miss it, you may regret it. Have you ever worked with such an underdog as myself?"

"You know, Harry," said Percy. "You're not an underdog, not exactly."

"How come?"

"Well, you're _Harry Potter_," said Percy. "We can skip the initial stage of having to introduce yourself to the people. You're more famous than the Minister anyways."

"We?" said Harry, smiling. "You're on board?"

"Yes," said Percy. "But you're going to have to explain to my wife why I'm going to be disappearing frequently, again."

"Say the time," said Harry. "What's the first step?"

"An interview," said Percy.

"I figured as much," said Harry. "I already got a few people in the Prophet I know to get prepared for one. Got some negative press today morning."

"Don't," said Percy. "Negative press is fine this early. You've got to be in the news, period."

"Don't what?" said Harry.

"Don't do anything else," said Percy. "I'll talk to them and get them to get you reporters you don't know."

"Eh?"

"Think," said Percy. "We don't want your personal ties to the wizard or witch that interviews you, you can bet the Minister's people will pick on that immediately. Anything said in the interview would then be lost in the midst of the argument of friendly _quid pro quo_."

"Fair enough," said Harry. "We're going to need a staff, and volunteers."

"I'll try to look for a staff," said Percy. "But if you know anyone who would drop their current work to help out, give me the name and if I approve, you can ask him or her."

"Things are going to get messy, aren't they?" said Harry.

"You can bet Puddlemere's trophies they are," said Percy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**  
**Escape**

_Everyone in the Weasley family knew that Ginny and Harry had the mother of all fights. In fact, they couldn't have missed it, considering it started right in the Weasley home. While not everyone was within earshot of the fight initially, but all it takes is one person to hear something to let it be known to everyone else._

_The fight started innocuous enough actually. Various members of the Weasley clan were mentioning their plans for the upcoming holiday. A four day weekend was to come, and given it was a rather newer holiday with no tradition behind it everyone had different plans. As they sat out one lovely afternoon, with alot of them having a meal._

_George was taking Angelina to Warsaw, Ron was dragging Hermione to Quebec for something or other, Charlie was back in England so didn't want to do any travelling, and so on._

_When Hermione asked Ginny what she planned to do, Ginny mentioned she was going to London to check out a concert with friends._

_"Eh?" said Harry. "Weren't we going to Paris this weekend?"_

_Ginny's face went white, and then red as a fierce blush spread across her face._

_"Wow Harry, I completely forgot," she stammered. "A bunch of friends are doing a weekend thing and I promised them I'd come too. Rain check?"_

_"You have... got... to... be... kidding... me...," said Harry, standing up from the table and walking aways towards the Weasley home._

_"Harry, I'm sorry," said Ginny, walking swiftly in an attempt to catch with Harry's long strides. "I really forgot. You understand?"_

_"Actually no," said Harry, stopping suddenly to look at her hard. "No, I don't bleedin well understand."_

_"Don't take that tone with me, Harry," said Ginny, getting angry herself now._

_"What? You're angry about tone?" said Harry. "I didn't even decide to go to Paris. You did! I was going to go with Hagrid fishing in Scotland. What was it you said? 'Oh, why don't we go down to Paris, we've never been there and it'd be lovely'. And you bring this now!"_

_"Harry, I didn't remember," she said. "You can't be angry at my bad memory."_

_"How smart, Ginevra," said Harry. "No, I'm not. I'm angry that when you do finally remember, your first reaction to ask me to cancel our plans."_

_"Harry, they've been planning this for awhile," she said. "I can't ask them all to reschedule."_

_"I'm not asking you to ask them to reschedule," he said. "I'm saying you don't have to go at all. They'll go on."_

_"But Harry, please understand me," she said._

_"No, no, no," said Harry. "This isn't the first time. I'm tired, Ginny. Either we're in a relationship or not."_

_"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" said Ginny. "One sodding concert and now you're coming up with this nonsense?"_

_"You know what I mean," said Harry, speaking much more softly now. "You act like we're just still getting to know one another, all light-hearted fun. We've been dating 6 years. 6 years!"_

_"Don't act like I've suddenly gone stupid and don't know that," snarled Ginny. "I'm twenty-one, Harry. Twenty-one! Why must you want us to act like we're married?"_

_"By twenty-one, my parents were not only married, they had me," said Harry. "And they were dead."_

_"Well I'm not your parents," said Ginny, just as angrily as before but now speaking more softly to her boyfriend. "And neither are you. We don't have a schedule."_

_"No we don't, Ginny," said Harry. "But I am happy now, and I am happy because I am in a serious relationship. With you. I'm not interested in a light-hearted date or two. I'm not interested in being blown off because you want to just hang without prior warning. I want to be in the position where we make decisions together."_

_"Well, Harry," said Ginny. "I'm not ready for that. And I never told you I was. I'm twenty-one."_

_"You said that already," said Harry. "And so bloody what? I'm twenty-two. We're not teenagers."_

_"Harry, you're the least twenty-two-like person I ever met, and ever will meet," said Ginny. "I mean that with all the love in the world."_

_"Well then, I never told you I was any different," said Harry. "If that's how you feel, how come you haven't mentioned something before?"_

_"And say what?!" said Ginny. "That you're far too mature? I love you for that Harry. I love you. But that doesn't mean sometimes you don't understand when I just want to have some foolish fun. How can I explain that?"_

_"Well, I'll spare you from the explanation," said Harry._

_"What on earth do you mean?" said Ginny. _

_"I'm where you see yourself being in the future," said Harry. "And you're where I was in the past. Either one of us shifts to the other position or we're going to be miserable."  
_

_"Harry," said Ginny, agitated. "You're over-reacting. One bloody trip I forgot and you're acting like we're miserable? What the hell, Harry?"_

_"Ginny," said Harry softly. After a pause, he continued, "Ginny, when you're ready to settle down, come see me and ask if I feel the same. Otherwise, I'm not going to get in your way in being young. You'd never forgive me, and I'd never be content."_

_Ginny stood there, silent out of shock at what Harry said. Before she even regained control of her mouth, Harry had walked away and apparated out of the house._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

To nobody's surprise, Hercule Clarkson's appeal to not be sent back was rejected by the Wizengamot. He was to be moved from Azkaban custody to the Aurors in the courts. For such a large-scale hearing, Courtroom 10 was chosen.

Ted Lupin let out a sigh at the court's decision. Sure, he knew that his client's was dangerous enough that he was guilty of the crimes, but Ted performed to the best of his abilities to keep him in the country. Ted would've considered it morally suspect to act otherwise. He looked to see Hugo's reaction, but the Weasley was furiously scribbling down on a notepad what he probably was going to pass to his magazine. When he entered the room, Ted quickly noticed Harry wasn't around; he wasn't expecting his godfather to attend the hearing as Harry only showed up when he was giving his opinion on the matter.

Ron Weasley wasn't able to come to this hearing as he had to show up for the transfers of the Hungarian wizards to their Ministry delegation. That transfer went as smoothly as expected.

Harry Potter was seated in his office, going through paperwork.

Nobody quite saw what was about to occur.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Every chair in Courtroom 10 was occupied, and there were a number of wizards/witches standing about. Aurors stood by the door, along with a few in various places in the large room.

When the judgement was read, a clamour for the door erupted and the hustle and bustle of the crowd caused quite a problem in moving for the Aurors. In this midst of confusion, it was seconds before anyone realised that the Auror standing beside Clarkson was incapacitated by him. Ted was the first to notice and as he was removing his wand, Clarkson had disarmed him. Ted fell back at the momentum hitting him.

A few in the crowd saw this flash of magic and panic started to flow across the room. The Aurors found it difficult to reach Clarkson because of the mad rush to the doors. In fact, in their haste to go towards Clarkson they didn't seem to realise that Clarkson wasn't trying to leave the room, but was actually moving away from the door.

More devastating was not noticing that Clarkson wasn't fighting alone. Some people remained in their seats as many rushed to exit the room. They then took advantage of the distracted Aurors and attacked them from behind. The Aurors remaining at the door try to prevent an escape of a man who clearly wasn't attempting one were too far back to be of much help.

And finally, ominously, the doors were shut by two assisting Clarkson, which kept the majority of Aurors (who were standing outside) out of the fight. It was a few minutes before the Aurors realised they were out-manoeuvred.

Of the crowd trying to escape, most had. A small number though, could not go past the doors in time.

It took a short while to get the crowd to be silent.

"Well then," said Clarkson, moving about far more freely than he displayed up to this point. "This is a change of situation."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Hermione was walking down the corridor when a secretary caught up with her.

"I didn't know you were here," she said. "Someone is waiting in the office for you."

Hermione thanked her and made her way to her office. Upon entry in the waiting area she was a bit surprised at the person. He'd never come to her office before. Come to think of it, she never bumped into him in the Ministry.

"Erm... Dean?" she said.

"Hermione," he said, getting up from the seat.

"I hope I didn't have you waiting long," she said.

"Nah, only been here a few minutes", he said.

"Come into my office," she said. As they sat down, she continued, "How can I help you?"

He squirmed a bit. "Ah... it wasn't exactly work related."

"Oh, I thought it was," she said. "Considering it's still morning."

"No, I enjoyed going over the painting with you," he said.

"Looking for more business or something?" she said.

"No, no, no," he said, waving it away. "I was thinking about asking you out. If that was okay."

Hermione didn't answer for a second. She didn't see that coming, and it's been many years since she last was asked out.

"Sure," she said. "But why didn't you just call?"

"I don't have your number," he said.

"I see," she said, and reached to the side for a quill and parchment. "Let's change that."

As she passed the parchment, there was a knock on her door. After her invitation to come in, the same secretary she met in the corridor walked in.

"Miss Granger," she said. "There's something you have to know."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"Lock the door very well," Clarkson ordered loudly. "They will try hard to find a way to sneak in."

The emotionless visage he had presented throughout the trial disappeared instantly. Now his eyes blaze with the fierce drive of purpose, he face contorted with ambition, and his voice strong in it's clarity.

"People, please do not foolishly risk your potentially useful lives with an attempt of resistance," he said. "Our problem is not with you, and should we gain what we want, I assure you none of you will be harmed. However, my reputation does precede me so do _not_ hesitate in believing me when I say there is no limit to how harmful I shall be if any of you tries to be a hero."

Ted Lupin staggered as he got up, he had fallen onto a upturned chair and was in a bit of pain. He looked around to see how many were in the room. The number of civilians could not have been more than fifteen, the number of Aurors seven or eight, and the number of those assisting Clarskon no more than ten.

The courtroom was windowless, and there was only one door. This was rather ideal from Clarkson's view, Ted figured, but there really wasn't another avenue they could use should they attempt an escape.

The hostages were told to move to one side of the room. Clarkson and his men then became silent, and didn't attempt any interaction with the hostages, unless they needed to order them to do something. They didn't seem to mind the hostages talking amongst themselves, and the eerily silent large courtroom air was only punctured by the fierce, low, whispers the hostages made.

It was only after sitting down on the hostages' side that Ted noticed Hugo was still in the room.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron Weasley had a smooth transition transferring his prisoners, and things happened an hour ahead of schedule. He made his way back to the ministry with a relaxed attitude. He didn't head to the Wizengamot as other Aurors were assigned. He had woken up far too early that morning to prepare for the transfer and he had the rest of the day off.

He walked swiftly to his office and was filing away a few pieces of paper where he'd write a report the next time he was at the office when there was a knock on his door. Before he could say a word, the door opened and a person walked in.

"I'd say come in but...," began Ron before being interrupted.

"Sir," said the young man. "We have a situation in the courts."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing what had happened a few days after that afternoon fight between Harry and Ginny. He and Hermione had fights like that twice a week and they never considered breaking up._

_He was sitting on Ginny's couch that evening, and Ginny looked terrible. He was furious at Harry for making his baby sister look like that. Until he heard what Harry's reasoning was._

_"Wait, what?" said Ron. "Lemme get this right. You told Harry to cancel his plans, so as to visit Paris. Then you decided to go with friends..."  
_

_"I forgot Ron," sighed Ginny. "I forgot!"_

_"Okay, once you remembered," said Ron. "You wanted Harry to accept you had a better place to go?"_

_"Ron, you're making it sound worse," said Ginny._

_"Where, dear sister, did I say something that wasn't accurate?" asked Ron. "Do tell me."_

_"I didn't have a better place to be," said Ginny. "I haven't hung out with my friends in a long while. I thought he'd understand. I've cancelled plans for his behalf before."_

_"When did you have to cancel plans on Harry before?" said Ron. "That didn't involve Harry being needed for work or some very important reason? Other than work, all Harry concentrates on is you."_

_"And that's not fair," said Ginny. "I have other friends, sometimes I like hanging out with him. You and Hermione are no different."_

_"Yes, Hermione and I don't hang out all day, but that's us," said Ron._

_"I'm twenty-one," said Ginny. "That's me too, and that should be Harry."_

_There really wasn't anyone who got Ron more defensive than defending Harry. "That's not fair on Harry, that's how he's always been. He's never pretending otherwise," said Ron._

_"And I never pretended otherwise," said Ginny. "I want Harry, I don't want anyone but Harry. But if we have the rest of our lives ahead of ourselves, why must we rush to that part? Can we just enjoy the present as it is?"_

_"I have no idea how you and Harry never discussed this bit," said Ron._

_"Ron, no matter what Harry and I have avoided in discussion," said Ginny. "It's always dwarfed by the massive sea of things you and Hermione avoid talking about."_

_"Ginny, of all the guys then to date right now, why Harry?" asked Ron, exasperated. "The world is filled with guys who aren't committed and would've sent you unhappy to me complaining about never being able to find a guy that's dependable. Now Harry's too dependable?"_

_"I didn't say that, Ron," said Ginny._

_"You didn't say that in words," said Ron. "But you meant it."_

_Ginny was quiet._

_"Ginny," said Ron. "Harry's never had a serious thing in his life. Hermione and I were the only fun things he had. He desperately needs something stable, something to cling his life to. He has no personal relatives he cares to be with, no aunts, no uncles, he didn't make many close friends at school._

_"Ginny," he continued, "is that wholly fair to you? No. But we all have what we need, and this _is_ what Harry needs. If you cannot provide it to him now, don't ask him to wait. You don't want to give up your life, don't ask him to give up what he wants in life. Let him go and find someone who wants that, not tomorrow but right now."_

_"Why must it be one or the other?" said Ginny._

_"Actually it doesn't have to," said Ron. "Since you fought, though, it seems like a moment of disagreement arose and decisions need to be made. You're right, people our age, few of us want to do anything too serious. There's a sea of guys who'd love to be with you. Harry wants to settle down. Not marry or anything, but something that he can say is his, all his. _

_"I'm not saying he's right, and I'm not saying you are either. I'm saying you two have to decide what to do now."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_A knock sounded at Harry's door._

_"I'm not interested in talking, Hermione," said Harry out loud._

_"How in the blazes do you know I was here?" asked Hermione, as Harry opened the door._

_"I have a security camera outside," said Harry. "Sometimes the simplest explanation..."_

_"Oh sod off," said Hermione with a smile._

_"So, what brings you to this far part of the country?" said Harry._

_"Oh ha ha, funny," said Hermione sarcastically. "Nobody I know lives closer to me than you. I chose my place on purpose for that reason."_

_"Really, have you told Ron that?" said Harry. "I don't particularly wish to get into a fist-fight when he gets jealous, again."_

_"Come on, Harry," she said. "Let's not try to distract from the point."_

_"What point?" said Harry. "I know you know, otherwise you wouldn't come here."_

_"Harry, how are you doing?" she asked._

_"I'm fine," said Harry. _

_Hermione simply looked at him, not saying a word until he clarified._

_"Fine, fine," he said. "I'm not fine. But, again, you knew that or you wouldn't be here."_

_"What's going on with you and Ginny?" she asked. "We thought everything was going fine."_

_"It was," he said. "It is. It's just she wants to cancel some trip that she made me cancel something for. It's all political."_

_"Harry, that's something Ron flips his lid over," she said. "Not you. What is the matter?"_

_"I'm tired of taking things slow, Hermione," said Harry. "We've been dating six years."_

_"Yes, I heard that part of the argument," said Hermione with a smile. "She kept repeating 'twenty-one' a few too many times."_

_"Exactly!" said Harry. "Who cares about a number?"_

_"She meant she wanted more time to enj..." said Hermione._

_"I know what she meant," said Harry. "I know."_

_"But that's not what you want?" asked Hermione._

_"No, I'm not," he said."I'm tired of being alone. I've found the one person who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Who it would destroy me if I ever was torn apart from. Why must I just let things proceed in this glacial pace? I'm happy, and want to be happy."_

_"Nobody wishes you otherwise," said Hermione. "Least of all Ginny."_

_"I don't mean she does," said Harry._

_"But have you told her this?" said Hermione._

_"Not in so many words," said Harry. "I've dropped hints."_

_"Have you asked to live with her?" asked Hermione._

_"Not really," said Harry._

_"No, or not really?" said Hermione._

_"...no," said Harry._

_"Then you're complaining that Ginny is not a mind-reader?" said Hermione. "A bit unfair on her, don't you think?"_

_"She knows how I feel, just like I know how she feels," said Harry. "Even if we didn't discuss it. I fear saying anything because it would clearly push her away."_

_"So rather than discussing it," said Hermione. "You decided to start a fight on a four-day weekend trip? Not very logical."_

_"I don't know what else to do," said Harry. "I say nothing, I risk us irritating one another. I say something, I risk we deciding we want such very different things that I lose her. I don't want to lose her, Hermione. I can't."_

_"Harry, do you know how many people wish for someone to say want what you want?" said Hermione. "No games, no nonsense, just going for quiet stability?"  
_

_"What do you mean?" said Harry._

_"I mean, don't deny what you need," she said. "But don't deny Ginny what she needs. And if your needs seem to differ to a degree that one or both of you needs to be miserable, then perhaps it's time you each look for others to provide you what you're looking for._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

When Hermione was told of the occurrence, her thoughts immediately jumped to her ex-husband, wrongly assuming he'd be taking the reins of security of a high-profile trial as this. In her panicked state, she didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation and rushed down to the courtroom.

Before she could go far she was stopped by Aurors. She didn't respond to the stop politely.

"I need to go to the courtroom," she said loudly and furiously. "I know someone in there."

"Please calm yourself," said the man, who while not unkind was very firm. "We are attempting to control the situation and you are not helping."

She tried to argue further but the man made it very clear that there really was no chance she was going to be allowed much further.

"Hermione!" someone yelled behind her. "_Hermione_!"

"Oh, thank goodness!" Hermione sobbed with relief, throwing herself in Ron's arms. "I thought you were in there!"

"I'm not, I'm not," he said as she shook onto his chest. "It's worse, though."

"Worse?" she said, looking up towards his face. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"Hugo's in there," he said, softly.

Ron knew Hermione very well, and knew to strengthen his grip after telling her that her son was held in a room with a deranged criminal, because the moment the words sunk in Hermione lost control of her legs and collapsed. He kept her up.

"We're going to get them out," he said as she was speechless. "We'll get him out."

With the distraction that was Hermione trying to enter the chamber, and then Ron calming her down afterwards, nobody noticed the soft sounds of footsteps in what appeared to be an empty hallway. The door to the court, which was sealed by many spells, opened at the hinges without any resistance and quietly closed without the appearance of anyone entering or exiting.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The court was ominously quiet still. Clarkson and his men were seated in a higher position in the chairs and their wands were held tight in their hands without a rest.

Hugo was writing furiously into his notepad. Sure, he was dead scared. Despite having numerous relatives who had histories of fighting battles, Hugo actually never fought a duel in his life. Sure, his wand-waving was good, and he fought practice fights in school and won a fair bit of them. But he never fought a proper duel, one where there was more at stake than just a bloody nose and a bruised ego.

But being frightened sure as hell would not prevent him from realising he had an opportunity to write on an event of such magnitude without the need of using a single source. Hugo was still a newbie in his magazine, this could be of extreme importance to his career.

Unless, of course, Hugo suddenly decides he would like to try out another occupation as he'd already done a few times.

He jumped a slight bit when something touched his shoulder. He quickly turned, stifling the yell that was aching to rip out from his lips, and saw Ted sitting behind him. It took him a moment for the shock to subside.

He was frightened in this situation.

"What the bleeding hell, Ted!" he whispered fiercely.

"Sorry, sorry," said Ted, raising his arms in defence. "I didn't know how else to catch your attention when I managed to come to this chair."

"How about 'Hey Hugo'," said Hugo in a sarcastic snarl. "Could've worked."

"Oh, well, maybe," said Ted. "But enough about that, and keep your voice low."

"I thought you made a run for it," said Hugo. "You were close to the door."

"Well I tried disarming him," said Ted.

"Why?" said Hugo.

"Why?" repeated Ted, a bit confused.

"Yes," said Hugo, "_why_?"

"Thought I could take him," said Ted. "Didn't know he had friends at that moment."

"You're his lawyer," said Hugo.

"Don't see how that's relevant," said Ted, shaking his head.

"Not _his_ lawyer," said Hugo. "His _lawyer_. You did not need to go galivanting in search of a battle. In a room, no a building, full of Aurors and other security what's a lawyer getting into a fight for?"

"Thought it was the right thing to do," said Ted, shrugging.

"For someone not exactly related to your godfather," said Hugo, "you have quite a bit in common."

"I'll take it as a compliment," said Ted.

"Go ahead," said Hugo. "Now what did you want to say to me that got you to sneak up here."

"Erm," said Ted. "Just wanted to talk to you. It's not like I have a plan. Do... you?"

"A plan to escape from a locked courtoom, wandless, windowless, and with one door?" said Hugo. "No."

"Pity, I was drawing blanks too," said Ted.

"Funny, Ted," said Hugo. "How funny."

"Yeah, I always thought Ted should really stay away from attempts at humor," said a voice.

This time Hugo jumped.

"What the hell?!" he said loudly.

Everyone in the room looked quickly at him. Ted slapped him in the back of the head.

"He's panicking," said Ted, to nobody in particular. "Emotional bugger and all. I'll quiet him."

"You do that," said Clarkson. "I would not like a panic to... spread if you will."

"Shut up, Hugo," said Ted furiously.

"What the blazes what that?" said Hugo.

"Who the blazes, Hugo, who," said the voice again.

This time, Hugo didn't get too shocked, and recognised the voice.

"Uncle Harry?!" he whispered angrily. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Heard there was a commotion," said Harry's voice. "Wanted to come and check. Thankfully I have my cloak always nearby."

"Why did you have to speak out loud all of a sudden?" said Hugo furiously. "Couldn't you warn me otherwise before giving me the scare of a lifetime?"

"Like tapping you on the shoulder?" said Ted with disgust. "Because you responded oh so well to that."

Hugo was quiet at that.

"Listen," said Harry. "As much as I'm enjoying this discussion, can someone please tell me how it got to this? And stop looking at my direction Hugo. Clarkson's men will either think you're crazy or be suspicious."

Quickly the two told Harry as much as what they saw.

"Hmm," said Harry's disembodied voice. "I don't know how to approach this."

"We need to know what he wants," said Ted. "He hasn't made any orders yet."

"He's waiting for the ministry to send someone to talk to him, I guess," said Harry. "Knowing the minister we have currently, he'll be waiting a long time."

"What the hell do we then?" asked Hugo.

"I'll go talk to him," said Harry. "Don't look my way, don't talk to me or anything."

"Why?" said Ted.

"They're foreigners," said Harry. "I'm hoping they have no idea you're my godson and nephew. That would not be a good thing for me if he knew that."

Harry didn't say anything else and Hugo and Ted didn't know he was away from them until, at the other side of the room, they saw Harry appear out of thin air, whipping off his invisibility cloak.

Before either of the two knew what was happening, the entire air around them lit up and the room became stunningly bright as countless spells were thrown without warning. Harry couldn't even be seen through the brightness, but as the light began to dim as the spell-casting slowly stopped, they saw Harry kneeling behind a table, surrounded by a shield or two.

"Wait!" Harry yelled. "Stop!"

The spells stopped suddenly as Clarkson barked an order.

"Mr. Potter," he said loudly as he walked down the steps towards where Harry was. "It would have been far less trouble if you merely knocked on the door."

"Well, I wanted a closer look before I announced my presence," said Harry, brushing himself off as he got up to a standing position.

"Very well, then," said Clarkson. "Why did they send you?"

"They didn't," said Harry. "I came all the same."

"I see," said Clarkson. "That isn't helpful. Go back and I'll wait for someone with the ministry's approval."

"Well, you don't know our lovely minister," said Harry. "You'll be waiting awhile. You might simply be welcoming an Auror attack without any discussion."

"Surely the minister isn't foolish enough to start a fight before negotiations?" said Clarkson.

"Not foolish," said Harry. "But hard-headed enough."

"Well we have a predicament," said Clarkson.

"Indeed," said Harry. "There's only one entry point to the room. Many, if not all here will probably be dead in any rescue attempt."

The mood of the hostages got even more frightened at the sound of that.

"So I'm torn between dealing with a sure to be failed rescue attempt," said Clarkson, "or dealing with an individual who has no authority to make a negotiation."

"Ah, maybe you should've just accepted exile then?" said Harry, with absolutely no warmth in his voice. "You'll deal with me because, one, I am a head of a department."

"International Confederation of Wizards, Mr. Potter," said Clarkson, dismissively. "This is a domestic issue, particularly."

"Second," said Harry, "I have alot of influence, as you surely wouldn't need persuading."

"No, Mr. Potter," said Clarkson. "My dispute is not with you, and I surely would be a fool to attempt to make enemies with you."

"Noted," said Harry. "But what are your demands?"

"Safe exit out from this building," said Clarkson.

"I figured that out, funny enough," sighed Harry. "What else? Where to?"

"I am not demanding that, Mr. Potter," said Clarkson. "Just let me and my men out of the building, that is all I ask."

"You want no financial benefit, no assistance to evade capture once you're out?" asked Harry incredulously.

"I wouldn't trust anything you provided to evade capture, Mr. Potter," was the reply. "As for money, I have no need to beg you of it."

"Fine," said Harry.

"That's it?" said Clarkson. "You can decide that?"

"No, but I just did decide it," said Harry. "The Minister will not acquiesce to your demand, so take it from me or try you luck with an Auror attack. The choice is yours."

Harry stood back as Clarkson discussed with his men the offer they just had. He didn't even attempt to listen in to their discussion. There really wasn't any alternative.

"Very well Mr. Potter," said Clarkson. "The hostages get their freedom, you let us out of the building."

"Good choice," said Harry.

"How will you achieve this?" asked Clarkson.

"Don't worry yourself with that," said Harry. "When I tell you it's time, just be ready for that."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_An entire month had passed, the longest that Ginny and Harry ever had been apart from one another. The Weasleys and Hermione had seen them around, but always individually, and each attempting to exhibit an air of calm and nonchalance. _

_One late night, when the rain lashed hard and everyone made sure to stay indoors, Harry was cooking in his kitchen while watching something on television. He didn't know exactly what he was watching. Two people were arguing about something, and they appeared passionate about it, but Harry didn't know what the hell either were talking about nor who had which opinion. Also, the moderator sucked._

_He didn't hear the knocking on his door due to the loud rain, along with the thunder bursts, until it sounded like someone was flinging a chair at the door._

_"For..." he said as he walked, "the..." he continued as went around the couch in a hurry, "love of..." he picked up a t-shirt from the ground, "God!" he reached the door and his hand moved towards the door handle. "I have a doorbell, you stubborn pureblood whoever you are..."_

_He became silent after he opened the door._

_Standing in the doorway, shaking due to the cold, was Ginny. Soaked wet from head to toe, and wasn't even dressed for rain-weather. She had a pair of sunglasses on her forehead, a flower-coloured red t-shirt, and a blue pair of shorts. And did I mention her clothes was soaked (Harry could not help dwelling on that bit as he remained silent)._

_"Are you going to invite me in?" she asked. "Or are you going to explain to Ron why his baby sister died of cold in front of your house?"_

_Harry just stood aside and let her in. He silently walked along with her, closing the front door, and went to his cupboard where he brought back a towel. He tossed the towel to Ginny, and went over to the remote with which he switched off the television. __He leaned back to look at the kitchen to make sure he had switched off the stove._

_After that he stood there and watched Ginny, wearing clothes with which it wasn't appropriate for British weather for at least two weeks. He waited for her to try to dry herself, and didn't say anything even after she stopped rubbing the towel all over her body._

_"Well," she said, "aren't you going to ask what I'm doing here?"_

_"Nah, I'm just going to wait until you tell me," he replied._

_"So you're going to be like that?" she said._

_"Yes, Ginny, I am," he said._

_"I..." she said. "I missed you."_

_He said nothing, and the famous Ginny irritation flared up for a second._

_"Aren't you going to say the same thing?" said Ginny._

_"You know I did," said Harry. "Let's not state the obvious."_

_"How romantic," she said._

_"Now is certainly not the time for romance," said Harry. "Why pretend?"_

_"Harry," she started. "I miss you. I've been miserable without you."_

_"And I the same," he said. "I never want you to be sad, ever. And especially not be the cause of your sadness."_

_"Then what are we fighting over?" said Ginny. "I need you. Why are we denying each other this?"_

_"Because Ginny, I need you too," he said. "All of you. I've been lonely for so long, I'm used to it. When I'm with you I'm not lonely anymore."_

_"That's good, right?" she said._

_"But I'm not with you enough," he said. "I know it doesn't make sense, but we're still having little dates here and there. I'm used to being lonely. I'm not used to being occasionally lonely, and occasionally happy with you. It actually makes the loneliness worse. I don't want to wake up in the morning alone, after having a lovely night with you. I don't want to see you walk away to go 'home'. When you say home I want you to mean me in it."_

_"Oh Harry," said Ginny. "I never meant..."_

_He raised his hand, cutting her off. "Let me finish," he said. "This is my fault, I will not expect of you what you never said you'd give. I understand that completely. I know I'm asking too much of you right now. You want me to be patient and not pushy. So I won't be pushy. I won't give you an ultimatum or anything silly like that. We're looking for different things at the moment and maybe someday we'll be on the same page, and maybe then if neither of us is taken... maybe."_

_"Harry," said Ginny. "The idea of being with anyone other than you makes me ill. The idea of you being anyone else would make me inconsolable. I hate that moment at the end when we're together that we must part. I think about you, in our absence, far too often for it to be healthy."_

_She walked up to him, still wet, and pushed him so he sat on the couch. She remained standing._

_"If the only thing you ask of me is that I'm not around often," she said. "Then this is something I'm only too glad to change."_

_She sat on his lap. His trousers got wet quickly because of her clothes. He wasn't complaining one bit._

_"I was in another country with a few people," she said. "It was sunny, people were laughing, and I was miserable. I didn't care if the whole event ever existed. I was only thinking of you."_

_She wrapped her arms around his neck, and now spoke centimetres from his ear._

_"If you don't want to wake up with me not around," said Ginny. "Then that's what will happen."_

_She kissed his ear softly._

_"If you want stability, say the word," said Ginny._

_She kissed his cheek._

_"If you wanted you and I to never leave this room, for the rest of our lives," she said, her breath brushing against his cheek. "Then say the word and that's what'll happen."_

_Her lips then met his._

_"I am yours," she said, in between one of the short pauses between kisses. "I'm all yours."_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**  
**Head of Auror Office**

_After the funeral, Harry wasn't to be found anywhere. A number of people from the Weasley clan attempted to contact him but he never responded, or wasn't anywhere near enough to even get the messages._

_Ron Weasley put it on himself to find Harry. Not telling his family, he apparated to as many of Harry's frequent spots as he could think of. _

_No luck._

_It was months as Ron went to as many muggle and wizarding locations. He even stopped by Privet Drive, how desperate he became. Further time passed as he continued trying, but the first he saw of Harry was completely by accident._

_Walking back home after a gruelling battle to apprehend a few runaway wizards, Ron stopped by a bar he had been frequenting lately. Stepping in from the frigid cold, he was welcomed by a blast of warm air of the interior. He sat at a booth and made his order. Only when he was sipping his drink, he noticed him from the corner of his eye._

_He was leaning forward, uninterested in looking around on his seat at the bar. Hence he didn't notice when his old friend sat down beside him._

_"I'd ask if this seat was taken," said Ron. "But I'm betting you'd lie and claim it was."_

_Harry turned to see him, and merely nodded his head at him._

_"It's been awhile since anyone's seen you," Ron continued, unperturbed. _

_"I haven't been anywhere nearby to be seen," said Harry._

_"Well, it's good to see you though," said Ron. "I have been looking for you."_

_"Really?" said Harry._

_"Don't 'really' me," said Ron. "If you didn't think people would look for you, you wouldn't have made a good enough attempt that people wouldn't have been able to find you."_

_"Fair enough," said Harry. "How have things been?"_

_"Distant, and quiet," said Ron._

_"How's Hermione and the kids?" said Harry._

_"The kids are fine," said Ron. "They tell me Hermione is doing well."_

_"Good to hear," said Harry, but Ron noticed Harry stiffened at Ron's choice of words._

_"Where have you been?" said Ron._

_"Here, and there," said Harry. "I stopped thinking about where to go after while and just travelled to random places I've always wondered if I should go to."_

_"Anywhere I'd been to?" asked Ron._

_"Been to Tokyo?" said Harry. "I went there first."_

_"Nah, never been there," said Ron._

_They continued in that vein of small talk, Ron never asking about how he was dealing with everything, and Harry not going near the state of Ron's relationship with Hermione. _

_The only thing that came close to it was when Ron got up from his seat, Harry placed his hand on Ron's shoulder and whispered a quick 'I'm sorry'. Ron nodded without saying anything and Harry could tell Ron wanted to say something about Ginny and the kids but Harry appreciated Ron electing to not say anything for Harry's sake._

_One thing Harry shared with Ron that he never had with Hermione was they knew more of than not when to say the right words or when the right words were not saying anything at all. Harry was struck with a hefty amount of guilt at realising that his best two friends' problems were far deeper than he could've ever anticipated._

_He had told Ginny multiple times he should not interfere. Now, in the midst of his own pain, he still wondered just how wrong was he?_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You did what?!" yelled the Minister of Magic, he hand crashing down onto her desk punctuating her rage at what the man seated across from her had just told her.

"I let them out," said Harry.

"How could you?" said the Minister in fury. "How did you manage?!"

"A trick or two I learnt way back," said Harry. "I had no choice, Minister."

"You weren't the one to decide," said the Minister. "We don't just agree to all their demands immediately."

"All they asked for was an exit," said Harry. "That was it."

"And that didn't strike you as weird?" said the Minister.

"Of course it did," he said. "But I wasn't going to sit back when an opportunity like that arose."

"You had no authority," she said angrily, "no position to make such a negotiation or a decision."

"We didn't know what to do," he said. "Would you really rather had an assault into the room with unacceptable casualties?"

"No," she said. "And for that, I won't do anything against you. But you have been reckless and unwise, and the people won't appreciate it."

"They'd appreciate this more than the only other avenue that was going to occur," said Harry.

"We gave in to hostage-takers," said the Minister. "When he strikes again, this time you won't be around to stop him. Who's to say the casualties that will come after this will not far exceed the risks of trying to take him down in the court?"

"We don't know," said Harry. "I acted within what I did know."

"That was ridiculous," she said. "You have no idea what this criminal is planning or how devastating it could be, all you did was act in an extremely short-sighted fashion.

"You are dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Percy Weasley was waiting in Harry's office when Harry made it back.

"How's Hugo and Ted?" asked Percy.

"They're doing well," said Harry. "I've been meaning to come talk to you."

"When I heard what happened," said Percy, "I came as soon as I could. Can you tell me what happened there?"

Harry went through what exactly happened in the courtroom. Percy's face got more worried as he went on.

"You let them go?" said Percy when Harry finished.

"Yes," said Harry. "I had no choice."

"I know," sighed Percy. "But this is no good."

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"It's not good for your taking on the Minister," said Percy.

"How come?" said Harry. "The hostages are all safe and alive."

"You capitulated," said Percy. "Immediately too. This is why law enforcement makes the call. Not politicians."

"I don't understand," said Harry.

"_Think_," said Percy. "You were already going to be labelled as soft on crime, and this comes about?"

"Well, this just increases the work we need to do," said Harry. "We'll convince them."

"If we had more time, we could," said Percy. "But the election's not that far off in time."

"So what are you saying?" said Harry.

"I'm saying you have as little chance of winning the election as the Chudley Cannons have of winning this year's league," said Percy.

"Wow, just like that?" said Harry. "It's ended before it's even started?"

"Political careers have risen and fallen in even shorter period of times, Harry," said Percy. "An election or two in the future, and you could win. This one, though, is a tough sell."

"We still need the Minister to go," said Harry.

"I agree there," said Percy. "We need to find someone else to take her on."

"We?" said Harry.

"Yes, we," said Percy. "You still work in the Ministry. Your contacts there will be invaluable. You'll be working with me then."

"And what's our first job?"

"We need to find someone capable of being Minister, and more importantly, winning an election."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hugo wasn't left alone once for the next ten hours. Once the Aurors were done asking him questions, his family then came and repeated them. Hermione took the rest of her day off, and Ron already had the rest of the day off. Hugo wasn't left in peace this time.

"So," said Hermione, "how frightening was it?"

"A bit mother," said Hugo. "Same answer as last time you asked."

"Hey, it's the first time my baby boy got into a skirmish," said Hermione. "I have to be concerned."

"I know, mother."

"Don't worry," said Ron. "I'm sure Hugo brought out a Gryffindor in determination."

"Ordinarily you'd hope for that," said a voice, who was seen to be Ted. "But a shame."

"Shut up Ted," said Hugo. "You weren't in the lightest of moods either."

"True, but at least I tried to fight," said Ted.

"And that got you where?" asked Hugo. "Your back still sore?"

"Shut up Hugo."

"Harry was actually there?" said Ron with a whistle. "I wasn't expecting that. I wonder what possessed him to just walk in alone."

"His godson and nephew were there, for one," said Hermione.

"Either way," said Ron. "He's getting chewed out by the Minister as we speak."

"Why?" said Hermione. "He saved them all."

"He opened the door and let a fugitive and his men out," said Ron. "That never looks good."

"You wouldn't do the same?" said Hermione.

"I wouldn't have agreed so quickly, no," said Ron. "I'd consider the possibilities, make them sweat as bit..."

"And then?" said Hermione.

"Then I'd agree to it as there wasn't an alternative," said Ron.

"So the same thing in the end?" said Hermione.

"Nah, I would strongly have considered sending Aurors in to take the place," said Ron. "If there was a chance with a certain level of casualties, then I'd order that. It's just that courtroom was a really terrible place to hit."

"Careful, Dad," said Hugo. "Harry might overhear you saying that."

"Eh? What do you think I told him the moment I saw him after you all came out?" said Ron. "After 'thank you', of course."

"How did Harry get the men out of the room anyways?" said Hermione. "We didn't see them go past us."

"I don't know," said Hugo, rubbing his chin. "I mean, I don't think Harry explained it to Clarkson either. He simply said 'do what I tell you to do' and one moment they were there, the next they went... somewhere."

There was a knock on the window, and after opening it the owl flew over to Ron. Opening the piece of paper and quickly reading it, took his coat and made for the door.

"That was from Percy," he said. "He wants a moment to talk. Probably about how his nephew is doing."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry was sitting in the Ministry cafeteria enjoying the last spoonful of yoghurt he could scoop up. Yes, the Boy-Who-Lived had a massive soft-spot for yoghurt. Plain, strawberry-flavoured... don't get him started, you'd be sitting there listening to a long explanation that while frozen yoghurt is lovely to have in a hot summer day, actually using from plain yoghurt, a bowl of specially chosen fruits, waiting as it chilled... oh there he goes, you were warned.

He was putting everything back on the tray, after finishing his meal, when hands clasped over his eyes, obscuring his vision. He waited awhile, making sure not to say a word. A small kiss was placed on his left cheek.

"Ah, we are in a public place, woman," said Harry.

"You don't even know who it is," said a voice.

"A trace of know-it-all, a bit of bushy-brown hair," said Harry. "Of course I know."

"How did you hear hair?" she said, letting go of his head, and sitting in the seat across from him.

"You hear, I listen," said Harry with a knowing smirk, dodging the rolled up napkin of his she threw at him.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said. "I really didn't take it well when I heard Hugo was there."

"I knew Ted was going to be there," he said. "I genuinely didn't know Hugo was there until I was inside."

"All the same," said Hermione. "Thank you."

Harry waved it aside. "We owe each other nothing," he said.

"So, how did the Minister take it?" she asked.

"Predictably," he said.

"Yelling and table-slamming?"

"More table-slamming, less yelling than usual."

"Hmmm, that's different."

"Not really," he said. "I think she didn't let on that she was pleased she had a stick to beat me with if I try to beat her in an election."

"Does she?"

"Yes, she does."

"Pity."

"Indeed."

"So you're still going to run?"

"No, Percy and I talked about it. Too much risk, too little time."

"So, giving up?"

"No, just finding someone else to run instead."

"So, when are you going to ask me?"

"I know you Hermione. One, you'd be reluctant."

"And two?"

"Two, you don't think you're up for it."

"Do you?"

"I trust your judgement with my life."

"Not answering the question, Mr. Potter."

"Well, you are intelligent but sometimes can't be decisive quickly enough."

"Ouch, you're going for the heart there."

"Hermione, you know twenty-three different solutions and the pros and cons of any situation."

"And that's a bad thing, how?"

"It's not, it's very good as a leader."

"Isn't the election to become a leader?"

"Yes, but before you become a leader, you have to first win an election."

"And you think I'd struggle to convince an electorate?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"The same way I did," said Harry, sighing. "People didn't appreciate how I defended Clarkson from being deported back to Atlantis."

"Are you saying people are too stupid to understand?"

"No, I'm not," he said. "I'm saying I didn't do a good job explaining my position. And you're like me. You'll deal with all the facts in a large heap. When someone doesn't understand your position, it's important to express one's opinion in an engaging manner, with the facts, but succinct and with as much clarity as possible."

"And you think you would struggle in that?" she asked.

"I did struggle in that," he said. "And I think you would too. We're similar in that."

"Who do you have in mind?" she said.

"A few people," he said. "One stands out."

"Ah, do I know this person?" she said.

"Can't divulge that without talking with the person," he said.

"Look at you," she said. "A few weeks in the mud part of politics and you're already using secrecy."

"I've become a big boy, Miss Granger," he said. "Sexy, isn't it?"

"Unbelievably so," she said. "I'd shag you if it weren't such a public area."

"It won't hold me back," he said.

"Naturally, you're a man," she said.

Hermione hadn't had much times like this having this much levity in a conversation with Harry, and it warmed her to see Harry like this. Maybe he was improving after all. She didn't dare go anywhere near a topic that would clam him up.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Percy and Harry went over a number of names. They were speaking fast and short.

"What about Jenkins?" asked Percy.

"Which one?" said Harry. "Law Enforcement Jenkins, or Department of Mysteries Jenkins?"

"Law Enforcement," said Percy.

"Nope," said Harry. "He's too close with the Minister. He agrees with her in alot."

"Mysteries?" said Percy.

"Who the blazes knows what he supports?" said Harry. "It'd be like throwing darts at policy positions, the secretive bugger."

"Alistair Longbottom," said Harry. "Reasonable opinions, prominent family, and knows how to head organisations."

"Not the least bit interested," said Percy. "His business is expanding into Western Europe, and he has a good thing going in Ghana. He'd never leave work right now."

"What about Jason Bones?" asked Percy.

"I like him," said Harry. "He'll run one day. But he's too inexperienced right now. The Minister would make him look like a kid."

"So we have one person left," said Percy.

"Head of the Auror Office?" said Harry.

"Head of the Auror Office," said Percy with a nod.

"He's not going to like this," said Harry.

"Well, you're going to have to convince him," said Percy.

"Me?" said Harry. "You know him better."

"That's debatable," said Percy. "I've known him longer."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 10  
The Path is Long**

There was a knock on the door. Percy went over to open it, and let the person in.

"Oh, Harry," said Ron. "I didn't know you were going to be here too."

"Hi Ron," said Harry.

"Didn't mean to interrupt anything," said Ron. "Percy told me he wanted to talk to me."

"Well, we both want to talk to you," said Harry.

"Really?" asked Ron, a bit surprised. "That has got to be the... first time that's ever happened."

"Probably is," said Percy. "But enough chat. You're aware that Harry and I were working to get rid of the Minister."

Ron just looked at Percy and then Harry, and then Percy.

"No," he said slowly. "I'm not. This is the first I've heard of this."

"Really?" said Percy, looking at Harry. "I thought you'd have discussed it with Ron and Hermione, at least."

"No," said Harry. "I kept it close to the chest until I made a decision."

"Anyways, Ron," said Percy. "Harry and I were working..."

"Yes, yes, Percy," said Ron waving him off. "I pretty much figured that much. Who is going to run?"

"Harry was going to."

"Seriously?" said Ron. "This isn't some elaborate prank? I had difficulty getting you to do photo-shots, or visit you lately. But running for Minister?"

"When you say it like that," said Harry, "then you're just trying to make me look foolish."

"So what happened?" said Ron.

"Clarkson happened," said Harry.

"I see," said Ron. "So what's plan B?"

"You mean, who is plan B."

"Ok, who?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you?"

"Why in the name of Merlin would you think of me?" said Ron.

"Why not?" said Harry. "A decorated soldier in the Voldemort war, a long-term worker in the Ministry, and head of the Auror Office."

"Those are labels," said Ron. "Many people have similar."

"No, not really," said Harry.

"But why me?" said Ron. "I say go get Hermione. She's always been more passionate than either of us."

"No, I don't think she'd work for this," said Harry.

"You've found something you think I would be better for than Hermione?" said Ron. "Stop the press, this is big."

"I know she could be a great Minister," said Harry. "She'd get killed in the campaign, though."

"What? You're saying I'm the other way round?" said Ron, suspiciously.

"No, I'm saying I'd trust you in an election, and the position," said Harry, defensively.

"Fair enough," said Ron.

"So you're in then, right?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron. "I need to think about it first."

"Think about what?" said Harry.

"I just got asked this, y'know," said Ron. "I never actually gave any thought to running for Minister. I need to talk to the kids, and Hermione."

"Usually I need to talk to the family is a play done to make a politician seem more of a family-man/woman," said Percy. "You mean that don't you?"

"Of course," said Ron. "I've seen how insignificant things from the candidate's family is twisted purely for humiliation's sake."

"Ok then," said Percy. "Think about it, tell us when you decide. I'll drop a few hints here and there and see if you're a viable idea."

"Fine," said Ron, getting up and grabbing his coat. "I've got a few people to talk to."

After Ron had left, Percy and Harry stayed back.

"How are you feeling about Ron?" said Harry.

"I don't know," said Percy. "There's a risk we've not considered something that will bite us once we start. Then again, you had risks too."

"I can't wait until a reporter lobs the first question that seriously tests Ron's patient in an interview," said Harry. "There's going to be some humour in all this regardless."

"So, shall we form actual positions?" said Percy. "What do we call you or me?"

"You be campaign manager," said Harry. "I'll be deputy campaign manager."

"Then the first job we need to fill is communications," said Percy.

"Anyone spring to mind?" said Harry.

"A few," said Percy. "But don't worry about it, I'll deal with that."

"What's my first job then?" said Harry.

"Be the person the Ron's kids and Hermione and the other Weasleys need to ask questions of," said Percy. "If they have doubts about Ron running, he'll have doubts."

"How will I alleviate any doubts?" asked Harry.

"Do your thing," said Percy, waving him away. "You know, inspire them or something. You've done it before."

"Sounds manipulative," said Harry.

"You mean it, though," said Percy. "But politics and manipulation, a thin line and all that..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron Weasley was glad to have left the room. He needed some air. It was somewhat of a shock. He wasn't kidding when he said he genuinely never thought of running for Minister. Sure, he's fantasized about playing for England in the Quidditch World Cup, Head Boy and so on. But never Minister. It just never came up.

He actually thought Hermione was going to try to run after Kingsley stepped down, considering she worked closely under him to dismantle the pureblood and other discriminating laws. She would've been young, but soon after the fall of Voldemort the only person who could stop Hermione would've been Harry. But she never mentioned any interest then.

Over the years in the marriage, Ron got the impression it was a possibility down the line. It just never came up, but there was and is still lots of time. As for Harry running, Ron never really thought Harry would be interested unless really pushed to it. That sort of job never really seemed to interest Harry, reminding Ron of Dumbledore who was rumoured to have declined the job multiple times.

However, he was the least of the trio who he'd (or he suspected, anyone) would've anticipated running. It actually came out of nowhere. He couldn't deny he was flattered by the offer of the job, but did he really want to be Minister?

He knew what the job entailed. It was a highly demanding job where pressure was a constant companion. After the War, news media outlets exploded as there was a wholesale changes in the role of the press of society. Gone were the days where the Prophet would be used as an outlet for the Minister to paint foes as soft or dangerous (as Harry personally experienced with Fudge and the return of Voldemort). The media was a vibrant industry with a large number of companies and newspapers competing with one another to provide detailed and fast-paced news. Considering the fact the population of Wizarding Britain wasn't so large, a large number of news outlets were actually expansions of muggle conglomerates into the magical world. It was a very complicated process, considering secrecy of the wizarding world was still highly desired. However, using muggles with magical relatives heading the magical news division's and wizards and witches running the day-to-day affairs, it has up to this point worked with a few bumps here and there.

Also having to deal with the Muggle parliament and organisations. After the War, the muggles got wind that Kingsley was undergoing massive changes in the Ministry, the muggles mentioned some issues they had. Chiefly was that they were fed up of the occasional drip-drip of information that the Minister for Magic provided very infrequently, and usually only when disaster had occurred. That had to change. Kingsley, having had experience providing security to the Muggle Prime Minister after Voldemort returned, agreed fully. Liaison offices between the muggle and magical ministers were formed in the departments where there was some overlap. Ron, as Head of the Auror Office, had to constantly deal with Scotland Yard's liaison officer, who was currently a squib (and an incredibly sharp mind in detective-work, not to mention rather good with a gun).

Another thing was the fact that the muggle world and the wizarding world became far more intertwined, enough to make Voldemort turn in his grave. Supplies of goods from the muggles, usage of muggle technology, living within muggle areas, using muggle entertainment establishments amongst others were now a common thing in the wizarding world. The fact that the wizarding world existed being secret was still of paramount importance.

Then there was the politics of it. The media was ruthless and determined, the other members in the Ministry very interested in saving their backsides and burning others'. Ron's life would be in a harsh spotlight the moment he announced his interest in running. He wasn't naive enough not to know that. Everything in his life would go under a microscope. His activities during the Voldemort War, his divorce from Hermione, his friendship with Harry, Ginny... Nothing would be out of bounds.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Hermione's jaw dropped. Rose whistled in approval. Hugo was silent.

Ron didn't say anything, he wanted to gauge first reactions.

"You're kidding me?" said Rose after a while where nobody offered anything to say.

"Nope, just finished talking to Harry and Percy," said Ron.

"Wow," said Rose. "Minister Weasley, have we ever had one of those?"

"Steady there, dear," said Hermione. "Your father hasn't actually said that he had decided. Forget about there being no guarantee of him winning."

"Decided what? Of course he's going to do it, and win," said Rose. "Isn't that right, Dad?"

"I have to consider everything before deciding," said Ron.

"Like what?" said Hugo.

"Like, do I want to be Minister," said Ron. "Do I want to subject you three to the speculation and spotlight, which is sure to happen?"

"Dad, Hugo and I are grown up," said Rose. "We can handle this."

"Doesn't make a difference," said Ron. "It's you two and your mother. Everything in my life will be gone over and analysed, if not criticised. Every negative thing that happened will be magnified. And if you think anything is so obscure nobody could find it, you don't know how interested everyone in your past is in talking to the media the moment you are part of the spotlight."

"Dad, I don't care," said Rose. "Anything that comes up, comes up. If this is what you want, I'm with you."

"Hugo?" asked Ron.

"What Rose said," he said. "If you want to do this, I'm with you."

"Hermione?" said Ron.

His ex-wife shifted in her seat and hesitated to answer. She didn't look comfortable being asked, and she quite frankly wasn't expected to be asked of her opinion.

"It's not my place to decide," said Hermione, after a pause. "When we were married we'd decide this together, but it's now your decision."

"Of course you have a place," said Ron. "Not only because I trust your opinion, but that the fact that we were married is bound to arise. People will come up with rumours, none of them any good."

"Yes, but I think you've already considered that, and I'm with you," said Hermione. "However, did you consider they were going to come up with Ginny and the trio?"

Ron leaned back, rubbed his face and sighed.

"Yes," said Ron. "I don't want that."

"Harry's just started to come out of his shell," said Hermione. "This could just push him all the way back."

"I know, and I would've refused outright," said Ron, "were it not the fact that Harry is one that's asking me to."

"Even then," said Hermione. "Please check with Harry first."

"Will do."

"If he's good with it," said Hermione. "Then you have all my support."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_Ronald Weasley for Minister?_

_The Daily Prophet, quoting unnamed sources, has heard strong enough rumours to report that Ronald Weasley is considering running for Minister for Magic in the upcoming elections. This is an unexpected and unpredicted scenario from any political analyst, as far as this newspaper can recall._

_Mr. Weasley, currently Head of the Auror Office, is a well-known wizard who helped play a pivotal role in the downfall of the dark wizard Voldemort. Along with his, then and current, best friends Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, they acted in secrecy to find and destroy Voldemort's hidden horcruxes to help rid Great Britain from his tight grasp. A student in Hogwarts under the headmastership of Albus Dumbledore, Ronald Weasley never stood out individually, but through his friendship with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, he was very well known in the school._

_The second last out of six children from Arthur and Molly Weasley, Ronald Weasley... (continued on Page 2)_

_Mr. Weasley's performance in the Ministry... see Page 4_

_Mr. Weasley's sister and children's horrible tragedy... see Page 12_

Ron read parts of the newspaper out loud to Harry in the pub as they waited for their drinks.

"Was this your idea of letting me decide?" he asked. "It was leaked out before I even talked to my kids."

"I'm sorry Ron," said Harry. "Percy said we had so little time to act that he needed to gauge reaction to any possibility of you running."

"Wow," said Ron. "He's getting excited far too quickly."

"It's Percy," said Harry. "He may have left politics, but politics hasn't left him."

"Indeed," said Ron. "Listen, I talked to the kids and Hermione. I just need to talk with you."

"About?" said Harry. "It's your decision, I don't come into it."

"Of course you do, Harry," said Ron. "They're going to comb through our lives."

"They've done so before," said Harry.

"They're going to go through my divorce," said Ron. "And Ginny and the kids."

"Ron," said Harry. "I don't want to talk about it."

"No," said Ron, his hand coming down hard onto the table. "This time you're not blocking it out from a discussion. Don't you get it, they're going to talk about it. See page 12, it's started. If you can't even discuss it with me, can you handle seeing her face in the papers? Albus'? Lily's? James'?"

"I'll have to manage," said Harry.

"No, there'll be no 'managing' alone," said Ron. "Hermione and I agree on this one. If you can't handle that, then take my name out of running. A herd of hippogriffs won't push me to run."

A pause happened, where Harry and Ron stared at one another, waiting to see who'd figuratively blink first. Harry lost.

"Fine, Ron," said Harry. "I don't like it, and I thought about it. But this is important. I'll have to cope."

"I mean it, Harry," said Ron. "I won't discomfort you on my behalf. You have to tell me if it gets too much. If you give me the silent treatment and I feel that it's killing you, so help me I'll drop out of the race and endorse the Minister for re-election."

Harry was quiet.

"Do you understand, Harry?" said Ron, very firmly.

"Yes," said Harry, after a period of silence.

"Good," said Ron, pleased.

The drinks arrived then.

"Which reminds me," said Harry. "You're going to have to meet someone who may wish to donate to the campaign."

"Who is it?" said Ron.

"Can't say," said Harry. "Anonymity reasons. I met him."

"Anyone I know?" said Ron.

"Erm... yes," said Harry. "Which reminds me, make sure that I come along when you meet the person."

"For work reasons?" asked Ron.

"Not exactly," said Harry. "But I wouldn't miss this for the world."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 11  
Chaos Never Comes Quietly**

_Clarkson Strikes, Five Dead  
Luna Lovegood_

_Recently escaped international criminal, Hercule Clarkson struck late last afternoon, in the heart of Wizarding Britain's shopping center, Diagon Alley. A street battle erupted in which five civilians ended up dead, and two of Clarkson's men were captured. The Auror side, led by Jason Bones, managed to keep the damage to lower levels than what was conceivable in such a densely populated location. Jason Bones has said, though, that any casualties were unacceptable and wanted us to think about the families of those of have fallen. This paper agrees with such sentiment. The Ministry refused to mention the casualty list of Clarkson's men, the Aurors or the security guards._

_Clarkson escaped from a Ministry court right after losing his appeal to be extradited back to Atlantis. He achieved this by taking hostages in the court and his demands for escape were accepted by Harry Potter. While Mr. Potter's intentions were to minimize any casualties then, this paper has to ask whether this was a wise course of action considering Clarkson has decided to continue his criminal activity this time on British soil. That said, one could not know the exact situation Mr. Potter was under, but even then there is now every possibility that far more people will be harmed in any attempt to capture Clarkson than if his demands were rejected firmly that day. (continued on Page A2)_

_On Clarkson's international history... see Page A4_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

**_Early Afternoon, Yesterday_**

The wandmaker store was closing in Diagon Alley, but most of the other shops were remaining open for a few more hours. This was one of the busier times of the season, it being Valentine's Day. The alley was going to be much brighter than usual, with far more lamps around, tables being brought to the sidewalks to attract the couples coming. People were very thankful the weather was rather pleasant that day, that was always be good for business.

Due to the crowd, nobody noticed the apparating wizards near Gringotts. Not until, that is, the Gringotts security kicked into alert mode. The moment a location was breeched that was not open to the public, goblins swarmed around the location, throwing curses and attacking with weapons. Weapons including swords, bows and arrows, and axes and huge maces.

However the wizards, who numbered at least fifty, were up for a fight, casting spells and enchantments to hit back at the goblins.

The damage was massive. Within minutes a large crater was formed outside the steps of the bank. Wizards and witches were scrambling to run away from the battle.

Billows of smoke came out of some windows of Gringotts, debris fell from the walls, and a few fires began. It was to this entrance Aurors apparated into the mess.

"What the blasted hell is going on?" said one loudly.

"I don't know, Bones," said another. "We came right before you."

"Where the blazes is Ron Weasley?" said Bones.

"Azkaban, sir," said someone else. "He won't be making it."

"It's on you, then," said one. "You're the highest ranked around, unless I missed someone."

Bones cursed a fair few swear words. He then barked orders of getting to cover first to assess the situation. It wouldn't be under his watch that they'd walk blindly into an ambush. Jason Bones was a somewhat young man with brown hair and a couple of scars on his neck. He had a boyish good looks that always helped with being charming, but wasn't really helpful as an Auror. He quickly rose up the ranks in the Auror division, but there was nothing due to coming from a prestigious family of fighters, instead mostly down to his own determination to always prove to others that he was better than they expected him to be.

Crouching behind the cover, Jason looked around to see what was going on. It was complete chaos in a small plot of land, but he managed to figure out that the goblin security were giving a fight against Clarkson's men. While Clarkson's men appeared well-trained, they didn't seem to be prepared for such a response.

"Sir, we need to get down there quick," said an Auror rushing to them.

"We need to figure out how to approach this," said Jason. "That, or get orders from above if possible."

"Sir, that would be unwise," said the Auror.

"Explain."

"Sir, they haven't brought out the big defences yet," said the Auror.

"The big defe..." said Jason, who's face quickly changed. "Dragons? They wouldn't in such a crowded area?"

"They would if they thought their defences could be breached," said the Auror. "And they're entitled to under goblin-wizarding laws that established Gringotts."

"Bloody hell," said Jason, getting up from his position quickly. "Everyone, get into the fight on the goblin side. Extreme force authorised. Move, move!"

The Aurors split into two groups and approached Gringotts from different directions. Upon entry, they saw everything in the entrance demolished, and a battle continuing down the corridor. They didn't wait and threw a number of curses.

The goblins and Clarkson's men quickly took the Auror presence into their plans, with the former moving to allow the Aurors room to join the fight, while the latter banded closer together and moved towards better cover.

A curse missed Jason and hit his colleague. He shouted an order for one Auror to check on the hurt person. He made his way through the corridor, and slipped on a the marbled floor. As he fell he saw one of them running towards him, so while on the floor he threw a hex at him.

He quickly got to his feet and continued to move forward. Before he could make it to the where the vaults began, a number of Aurors appeared from a door down the hallway. Leading them was the head of the Auror office.

"Sir," said Jason.

"Jason," said Ron. "What's the status?"

"Still unclear to say," said Jason. "Clarkson's men appeared to be wanting to fight through the goblin resistance, but is now defensive considering we've shown up."

"Good," said Ron. "Let's end this quickly, because I just know a goblin is itching to let a dragon or two loose."

By then Clarkson's men were actually trying to get out of Gringotts, possibly realising fighting goblins and Aurors simultaneously was not a hopeful plan. The Aurors tried to hold them back, trying to capture or kill as many of them as they could. The goblins, however, were not concerned with arresting anyone and didn't try to keep them in. All the goblins did was either try to kill or push them out. That wasn't too helpful to the Aurors as it made them more aggressive and that was a recipe for spells that caused an unbelievable amount of damage.

Ron noticed that the risks were getting a bit too much and ordered the Aurors to not prevent them from leaving, but attempt to capture as many as they could before they ran for it.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron was seated on the pavement when Harry saw him. He just waved a hand lazily in greeting to Harry, clearly exhausted.

"I was planning to make a deposit," said Harry with a smirk. "Looks like there was a stampede to withdraw money. Was there a panic?"

"I made sure your vault was the first to be taken," said Ron. "It's not like you're spending it, cheap bastard."

"I've spent a whole lot of my money," said Harry. "I just earned more."

"Well, then rich arrogant bastard," said Ron.

"How bad has it gotten?" said Harry.

"Not a national disaster," said Ron. "But still terrible. We lost eight Aurors, twenty-three goblins and killed at least twenty of their men."

"That's a bloodbath," said Harry.

"Yes," said Ron, sighing. "I thought it was worse, because with the crater and blown out Gringotts entrance, mentally preparing for hundreds of deaths, including civilians."

"Still, this is going to create a panic," said Harry. "I've been approached by the Minister to head the Department of Law Enforcement."

"What the hell?" asked Ron.

"I wonder if she thinks she's removing me from running against her," said Harry. "I haven't said I wasn't running."

"More like she wants to remind everyone that you let him go," said Ron. "Win-win for her, really."

"I fail in detaining him," said Harry, "and I'm to blame for the mess."

"You succeed in getting him, and the Minister gets credit for putting aside partisanship in appointing a rival for a top position," said Ron.

"Quite clever, actually," said Harry.

"So you told her no?" said Ron.

"No," said Harry. "I told her bleedin yes."

"Why, why, why?" asked Ron.

"Because this is an opportunity," said Harry. "I intend to stop Clarkson. Besides, I was thinking of moving departments earlier on anyways."

"So that's what... four or five different departments in the Ministry you've worked in?" asked Ron. "Harry, there's alot of documents and people you have to work with as department head. I left that and went down to Auror Office head because I wanted more field-work."

"I've been a head of department before," said Harry. "Don't worry, I'll make it work."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry sighed at all the paperwork in front of him.

"Ilena!" he yelled very loudly.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry," said Ilena, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. "I'm just outside, and the door's _open_."

"We're going to need a staff," he said.

"This is Magical Law Enforcement," said Ilena. "We have a staff, a big one."

"Really?" said Harry. "We were screwed back there in international confederation, being just us two."

"Yes, we were," said Ilena dryly. "It was a wonder why international cooperation in the magical world is in a complete mess."

"After we're done with this," said Harry, "we may have to try to change this."

"This is our first day in law enforcement," said Ilena. "Well your first day back in many years. And you're thinking about what we're going to do when we leave this?"

"Fair enough," said Harry. "Bring me my staff."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry stood before a large number of Aurors who happened to be in the Office that day.

"Yesterday was a particularly difficult day for you," he said. "I can sympathise. It seems insignificant to be dealing with a change at the top, so I'll keep my words short and to the point.

"Those who fell yesterday did not do so in vain," he continued. "We will pursue the criminals wherever they may be."

Harry then told them to carry on. He waved Jason Bones over to his office. He shut the door and took a seat, but Jason merely stood.

"How are you doing?" asked Harry.

"So far, so good sir," said Jason. "Nothing serious physically damaged about me."

"I don't suppose many of the Aurors would be pleased to see me," said Harry.

Jason stood there, but didn't say a word.

"I asked a question," said Harry. "So I'm giving you way to speak openly."

"No sir," said Jason. "I don't think they are."

"They don't think many of their men would have fallen today if I didn't let Clarkson go," said Harry.

"Yes sir," said Jason. "But more to it, they don't think you should've had the decision to make in the first place."

"Alot more would've died if they attempted to storm a closed space with only one entry," said Harry.

"Sir, you don't have to convince me," said Jason.

"Because you agree with me?" asked Harry. "Or because you do your job whether you're convinced or not?"

"I'd rather not answer that, sir," said Jason. "I just don't want to make a habit of arguing with someone who defeated Voldemort. But I do concede it would've had many casualties had we stormed the courtroom."

"Very well then," said Harry. "Thank you for your candour.

"Dismissed."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 12  
His Ginny**

_Ginny's trip to King's Cross to begin her seventh year wasn't an easy one._

_For Harry._

_He was agitated and spoke a mile-a-minute. It was very odd driving in that direction without the intention of going to Hogwarts himself. He mentioned that he hoped she'd enjoy herself there. For the eighth time, that is. _

_Ron groaned at Harry, and banged his head onto the window of the car. Ginny thought it was really cute. Hermione thought it was sweet._

_They reached the station, and made their way through the platform. As they stood in the crowd, the bumping and shoving of passersby, the heat from the trains, the crowd, the hot summer, and from the unhappiness bubbling within Harry that he would be apart from Ginny for months. They were still getting the feel of being together and he feared distance would wreck whatever fragile connection they had together._

_As Ginny finished hugging her parents, Ron and Hermione, and then gave a long, warm hug to Harry. Harry couldn't resist breathing in the scent of her hair, to try as hard as he might to take in as much of her, in as many senses possible, to recall as the months grew long._

_She pulled away from him, her long, red hair brushing across his face as she moved back. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. She didn't seem to be able to form any words, and turned to leave._

_Harry didn't let go of her arm and pulled her back. He whispered in her ear, not wishing to say this out loud._

_"Gin, this is your last year, and the muggles have a saying about long-distance relationships," he said. "If you meet anyone, just send me an owl and I won't be in your way. I don't want to pressure you."_

_"Me? Meet anyone?" said Ginny. "Harry, I know who I'm going to see. There won't be any surprises. It's you who needs to be told this. You're going around in the world. Who knows who you'll meet."_

_"Not interested," he said._

_"No, send me an owl if you meet anyone," said Ginny. "It's me who doesn't want to pressure you."_

_"Not going to happen," he said. "It's your last year of school, with no dark lords hopping about. You should enjoy yourself. And study." he added the last bit with a look to Hermione, even though Hermione couldn't hear them._

_"I will miss you, every day and every night," said Ginny. "If I can't wait a year for you then I never deserved you anyways."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry was miserable today. Unlike what some people thought, it wasn't special occasions like anniversaries or the date they died that would have him feeling really down. Instead it would be a random moment once in awhile where his thoughts turned to Ginny, or James, or Albus, or Lily. When he hasn't steeled himself to resist thinking about it.

It happened while they were seated at the Weasley's one night. Fleur, George and Charlie had cooked up a large feast to welcome the start of spring. They large table stood on the grass under the dark sky where countless stars could be seen. There was no moon visible, but there were a number of floating lamps so darkness wasn't an issue with the dinner.

Harry sat between Rose and Victoire. Victoire was completely enamoured with Ted talking about something. Rose was talking with Angelina about something else. Harry wasn't sure what, he wasn't paying much attention. Not until something said caught his attention.

"What did you say?" he said.

"Sorry?" said Rose.

"What did you just say?" said Harry.

"I said if I wasn't willing to wait for my dream career," said Rose, "then I never deserved it anyways."

He was starring at the floating lamps, watching as the flames flickered with the blowing wind. How the soft sounds of the leaves of the trees surrounding them rustling in the breeze, the flickering of the stars in the dense darkness of the sky, the aroma of food thick in the air, the sound of laughter cutting through the air... his mind began to wander.

Red hair... brown eyes... laughter...

Suddenly Harry felt his chest feel tight, his eyes burning, his head spinning, his heart racing. He leaned back, trying to hold it in.

Don't... just don't.

He couldn't hold it out, like a dam that broke it cam flooding in. The first time he said he loved her, the first time he kissed her, the time when they didn't speak for a month... the time when they went to a small cottage and spent a weekend there. He remembered the smell of her hair and the feeling of her skin. He remembered her leaning on his chest to watch Fulham play, and the mischievous grin she had when she finally got him frustrated.

He remembered James' sober seriousness, and Albus' misgivings about things, not to mention Lily's energy.

He remembered a large red object, fuzzy in nature, and he remembered... he remembered... he remembered seeing...

...green.

He mumbled something as he got off his seat with as much grace as he could (which was incredibly little). His strides were long and quick as he moved swiftly back into the house. He rushed up the stairs to go to the nearest washroom.

He splashed water into his face, and stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn't realised he was crying this heavily. He was still streaming tears down his face and he quickly washed it away. But it came back seconds after he stopped washing. His shoulders shook as he cried, his throat burned as he tried to force back the sobs... nobody should hear him. Nobody should see him like this.

"Oh Harry," someone sighed at the still-open door.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

The dinner was going splendidly, and the conversation was good. Except for the current one, seriously it was one thing to be polite but quite another to be subjected to such a topic for so long. How long was one obligated by manners before one could end the conversation without fear of being rude?

Hermione wasn't sure of the answer to that question so she continued to listen. Until she noticed something from the corner of her eye.

She got up from her seat quickly and followed him back. Normally Harry had this annoying habit of knowing if someone was nearby but this time he moved on without noticing her following him step for step. She wanted to say something, catch his attention. But her heart ached at the sight of seeing him in a non-reserved manner and she felt guilty that she didn't want this to stop.

He went up the stairs so quickly she thought she lost him. But she saw an open door to a washroom and quietly made her way towards it. She knew she shouldn't, she knew it wasn't her place... damnit, if it was anyone but her Harry she would've walked away. They were always each other's comfort and she wouldn't dare walk away without making sure he wasn't doing fine.

If her heart ached earlier, it was wrecked at the sight of Harry crying in the washroom. The last time she saw him crying... Hermione actually struggle to recall the last time she saw Harry in tears. She tried to stay silent, so she could slowly walk away and not let Harry know she saw him so vulnerable.

"Oh Harry," she said with as much emotion as she could put into her voice. She couldn't help it, she had to say something.

She expected him to storm out, to angrily demand his privacy, or to wipe the tears away and say it was nothing and not to worry about it. She didn't expect him to pull her and hug her hard.

She didn't say anything as he held her. His crying had stopped at the surprise of her entrance, but he held her nonetheless. She stroked his hair as they hugged, and didn't even know how much time had passed. She didn't know for sure, but she trusted her instincts not to say anything and to just let the moment be.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed, Hermione neither knew nor care how long it was, Harry pulled back. As she looked at him, all that distant appearance on his face, all that reservedness, were all gone. Momentarily, she didn't doubt, but at that moment she saw him as how he was coping at that moment.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Does this happen often?" she said.

"Once in awhile," he said. "It's less than a few years back, but once in awhile."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I can't."

"You can," she said softly, rubbing his arm with her hand. "I asked if you want to. If you don't, it's alright."

"And say what?" said Harry. "Say that I'm still having a tough time? It's going to be five years in a couple of months since."

"So?" she said. "There really isn't a formula to this."

"I wish there were," said Harry.

"Have you considered it may not be healthy bottling it in?" she asked.

"Who do I talk to?" said Harry.

"Me," she said. "Ron."

"I can't expect you to understand."

"Nor should you."

"Then..."

"Then know we may not know what you're going through," she said. "But know that we know you need our help. That's all you, Ron, and I are here for. To make sure that if one of us is down we are always around. For anything."

"The way I was around when your marriage was failing?" said Harry.

Hermione stood back, confused. Of all the things he was going to say, she didn't see that coming.

"What on earth are you taking about?" she said, breathlessly.

"Where was I when your marriage to Ron was falling apart?" he said. "You just said when one of us three needs help, the others step in. The two of you could've used my help, maybe I could've helped."

"Harry," she said. "Ron and I do not think that for one bit..."

"But I do," said Harry. "Ginny told me to find out what was going on. She said that being an equal friend to both of you I could've been neutral that others couldn't. I kept saying I shouldn't interfere. That it wasn't my place as I'd appear I'd take a side."

"Harry," said Hermione. "Things were rocky then, but they got worse after you lost your family. It was insignificant to what you were going through. You were in _mourning_."

"Yes, but Ginny and I discussed it earlier than that," said Harry. "And even if I was mourning, I should've still stepped up. I feel so guilty, Hermione. Part of the difficulty coming back was the fear I had disappointed you and Ron."

"Harry James Potter," said Hermione, agitated. "If you tell me that you regained this ridiculous notion that you should be everywhere at all times when you lost your entire family... I swear to you I don't even know what I'd do. I'd be more likely to end up suicidal with depression. Don't dare feel guilty."

"Hermione," said Harry, but his voice broke. "I could've helped."

"Yes you could've," said Hermione, now having tears in her eyes and her voice cracking. "But so what?!"

"I don't follow," said Harry.

"If I had cancer, and you had asthma," she said. "What would have our most attention?"

"Well..."

"That's the severity of what you had," she said, "it paled any of Ron or my problems to the point of not worthy of being mentioned."

"I should've offered at least," said Harry.

"I would've swatted any offer away, and told you to concentrate on your feelings and pain," she said. "And Ron would hit you for being so foolish."

He smiled a slight bit at the thought of that, which couldn't prevent Hermione from smiling either. There were few things that could always lift Hermione's moods since she was eleven, one of which was when Harry Potter's mood improved.

"Let's go back to the feast," she said, offering her hand, which he accepted.

For the rest of the evening, Harry sat by Hermione and they talked about things that were light-hearted in nature. Whenever anyone wasn't really paying attention to them, Hermione's hand softly rubbed Harry on his arm or back in comfort in soft, lazy motion. Harry didn't mind, in fact he wasn't going to admit he really appreciated it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 13  
I Want Her Back**

_It was a cold night in their sixth year. The Gryffindor common room was empty except for the three of them. It was really late and for some reason none of them wanted to go to bed yet. Not even Hermione, considering there was an early class in the morning._

_They sat in front of the fire, enjoying the embrace of its warmth in the cold winter. Ron was seated closest to the fire, and was reading the Daily Prophet. Hermione pushed Harry's arm away as she scooted closer, her head lay down on the chest. Harry was lost in thoughts, thinking about what he'd love to do with a Felix Felicis and fantasising about the things he could achieve._

_"You know," said Ron. "Romilda is beginning to become a bit too aggressive. It was funny at first, but now it's sad."_

_"The Boy-Who-Lived," said Hermione, who's eyes remained closed. "There's nothing that sounds sexier. To them, Ron, to them."_

_"Hermione's only being polite," said Harry, looking at Ron. "She agrees too, it's just not very proper of her to say it aloud."_

_Hermione slapped his thigh, unable to stifle a grin. Ron threw a cushion at Harry. _

_Harry noticed how Ron's attention to the newspaper wasn't deep, with him taking furtive glances at Hermione once every few moments. Hermione couldn't tell, considering her eyes were closed. Harry pretended not to notice, but his thoughts turned to wondering when the inevitable realisation would settle in for each of them that the other actually felt the same way._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Luna Lovegood was not a happy woman this day. She yelled at two of her staff members and accidentally yelled at a wrong person.

"What do you mean, you're not Dawkins?" she snarled.

"I'm Dagwood," said... well, Dagwood.

"I've been yelling for the past five minutes," she said. "And now you correct me?"

"I didn't know what you were yelling about in particular," he said. "I thought it was about my last report."

"It was fine," she said. "Somebody, get me Dawkins!" she yelled so loud Dagwood almost sprinted out of the office.

A head popped on her doorframe.

"A bad time, Lovegood?" said a man, having a slight smirk.

"Yes, but I can't tell you when a good one will come, Weasley" she said, "so might's well come on in."

He sat down, and looked around the room. A few posters of the most preposterous sounding creatures hung on the wall. He never talked to Luna during their school years, but from Ron he got a fair bit of what she was like.

"A silver-tailed jungle-ferret?" he asked.

"Yep, a fiercer fighter and not to mention it's call to the wild," said Luna, who didn't look up from her papers. "It's said to be almost musical. I've looked for it but unfortunately..."

Percy adjusted his shirt, because he really didn't know what to say. He never was one to humour others.

"If you want me to apologise for being hard on Harry," she said after the pause not breaking. "I won't. I love Harry for the person he is, but letting Clarkson go was downright stupid. We should've taken all the damage right then than let him cause damage on his terms."

"That's something for you to talk to Harry," said Percy.

"Wait," she said. "You're offering the Quibbler an interview?"

"No, I meant talk to him personally," said Percy.

Luna didn't understand. "If I wanted to talk to him in a personal fashion," she said, "I'd just send an owl."

"I'm here to offer you a job," said Percy.

"A job?" she said. "With who? The Quibbler is the fourth most read paper in the country, and one of the more trusted ones on news. We're on the up and I intend to push it higher."

"Not media," said Percy.

"Then what?" said Luna, getting irritated.

"Media communications if you will," he said. "I'm offering you the job of communications manager of the Ron Weasley campaign."

"Ron Weasley?" she said. "So the Prophet had a scoop on him running? And you didn't leak it to the Quibbler?!"

"I knew someone in the Prophet that could've gotten it in the next edition," said Percy. "You would've waited awhile to confirm it."

"Obviously," said Luna. "You deny me a scoop and then offer me a job? For shame, Weasley."

"Call me Percy," he said. "We've dealt with one another for a few years."

"Then 'Luna' on your end, too," she said. "But why do you want me?"

"You're good," he said. "And you know the media and how to report things."

"Ok," said Luna. "What does it offer me?"

"For once," he said. "You get to be part of the world that makes the news, not reports it."

"Say I'm warming to the idea," said Luna. "But I need a little push."

"You might hear word of the silver-tailed forest-badger or whatever," said Percy.

"It's silve..." began Luna.

"Look, do you want it or not?" said Percy, with a sigh.

"I can step down for a number of months," she said. "Another editor-in-chief can take my position. Must make sure to pick someone who doesn't like me."

"What on earth for?" he asked.

"Because I'll be damned before any hint of the paper going soft on us because I happen to be on board," she explained.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Hermione and Ron sat at the cafe waiting for Harry to arrive in silence, until Ron broke it.

"You planning any travel in the summer?" he asked.

"No, not really," she said. "Will stay here, like last year. You?"

"Same," said Ron. "I need time to sleep."

"I think everyone can agree with that," said Harry, who had just arrived. He took off his coat, and sat on the chair.

After they ordered, and finished some small talk, Harry asked if there was anything they wanted to talk about.

"Erm," said Ron. "Hermione might've mentioned that you felt guilty not being around when our marriage was... failing for lack of a better word."

Harry blushed at that. "Never mind that," said Harry. "It's no big deal."

"It is, Harry," said Ron. "You normally put on yourself things that most people wouldn't. This wasn't on you, we're adults and handled things our way."

"I know," said Harry. "It's just, I wonder..."

"Wondering is fine," said Ron. "Just not guilt. Okay?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Ok, now Percy tells me he's hired Luna for the campaign," said Ron.

"Really?" said Harry. "I didn't know that. I have to meet with him later on. I guess he was going to tell me then."

"It won't be boring," said Ron. "That we can be sure of."

"She tore a hole in you in her editorial the other day," said Hermione. "That'll be fun meeting her."

"She did her job," said Harry. "I shudder at the thought if I didn't get criticism for that."

They continued to drink and eat the pastries and chat aimlessly, something the three of them didn't do as just friends in a long time.

Hermione had to leave first, about an hour and a half after they started chatting. She got up, but before she could leave Ron had one more thing to say.

"Harry," he said. "You know, this guilt you say you're feeling about not helping us in what you thought you should've?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then please consider the amount of guilt Hermione and I are feeling for not helping you in your time of need," he said.

Harry was quiet for a moment. "I..." he said. "I didn't think of it like that."

"I know," said Ron.

"I just felt like I needed to get out of the way," said Harry.

"And that's where the logic went like Chudley Cannon's league win chances," said Ron. "If, after all these years, after all the craziness, if we cannot be around in your worst time ever... then we've failed as friends, truly."

"Don't think that," said Harry. "I left."

"We should've hunted you down," said Ron.

"You tried," said Harry.

"But you left," said Ron. "Were we deemed unhelpful? I mean, did you look at Hermione and I and think we'd cause more hurt for you?"

"No, no, no," said Harry. "You know how much I love you two."

"I don't want to sound accusatory," said Ron. "But that afternoon I lost my sister and niece and nephews. Don't push us away Harry. Not anymore."

Harry was quiet. He said something, but it came out as a mumble.

"What was that, Harry?" said Hermione.

"I said," said Harry, "that I'm afraid if I talk about it more, I'll just re-open the wounds and become sad again."

"Harry, the wounds haven't closed," said Ron. "It'll take time for that. Just let us in when things get too difficult. That's all."

"I'll try," said Harry.

Ron didn't push it. With that said, he leaned back to his chair and simply nodded.

Hermione waved Ron goodbye and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek before walking out.

After she left, Harry thought the conversation was over, and was going through his pockets to pay for his share. Ron, however, had other ideas.

"She's dating Dean, you know?" he said.

"What?" said Harry. "Who?"

"Hermione," said Ron. "She's dating Dean right now."

"You're not happy, are you?" said Harry, who already could tell that from Ron's voice.

"No," said Ron.

"I didn't know she was seeing anyone," said Harry. "Have you seen anyone?"

"Me?" said Ron. "No, not at all."

Silence, a frequent guest in the cafe that day, made another short entrance to their conversation. Harry didn't want to say anything as he didn't know how to approach this line of questioning. And also, knowing Ron, any moment now his true thoughts would come abou...

"I want her back," said Ron finally.

"Come again?" said Harry, trying to make sure he heard right.

"I want Hermione back," said Ron. "It's madness that we ended."

"How did it end, anyways?" said Harry.

"It's weird," said Ron. "I don't think she or I would be able to point how it happened. I've been thinking about it for ages. I think that we fought alot, but we fought even more than normal after a period in our marriage. And then... we somehow decided not to talk much for fear of starting another fight. After years of tip-toeing and barely speaking about anything that could've started a fight, it slowly became not speaking at all. One day we just realised we weren't married anymore... not really."

"And how do you know the exact same thing wouldn't happen again?" said Harry.

"I don't," said Ron. "Not really. But I do know I love her very much, and I never stopped loving her."

"That's a good place to start," said Harry. "But you can't just try to win her over, not without seriously considering how to avoid what happened before from happening again. There's no point in getting back together to create a whole new division. It won't be fair, for either of you."

"I guess I'll have to consider accepting that I gain more by being with her than she ever did by being with me," said Ron. "It'd humble me or something."

Harry just looked at him.

"What?" asked Ron. "You don't agree?"

"That is the most preposterous thing that you've ever said," said Harry. "And there's healthy competition for that. Self-pity will get you nowhere in life, and certainly not with Hermione who's downright one of the most amazing people I will ever meet. Either you accept you're good enough for her, or you never will be."

"So argue with her more?" said Ron.

"I want to slap you," said Harry. "Argument isn't the big deal. Ginny and I argued endlessly sometimes. It's not taking the argument personally. I mean you two must've taken it personally because you said you avoided it so much you pretty much stopped talking."

"I will try," said Ron. Harry cut him off.

"Try is not good enough," said Harry. "Not just for her, but for you too. Before you even consider going back or trying to go back, you have to strongly think if you and Hermione can put that aside. To be able to speak your minds without having to 'win' the argument, or getting all hurt about comments and then trying to get back with another hurtful comment. That's not right for a married couple. If you cannot say to me, without the least hesitation, that you will not return to that mentality, that things will be completely the opposite, then please take it from me just move on. Just think about it first."

Ron was staring at his coffee as Harry spoke, but he nodded his head.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 14  
Harry Decides to Meddle**

_Harry stood very uncomfortable outside. The forecast said sunny in this island. Sunny! Instead he stood under a downpour of incredible proportions. He later swore he thought he mistakenly apparated into the middle of a hurricane. As tempted as he was, he couldn't just apparate right back out._

_He had given Ginny a portkey and he was expecting her to come in a minute. He had no idea how to approach this. He gave it to her under a made-up reason and he lost the element of surprise. He needed to get her out of this, this would've been the least romantic question ever._

_Ginny appeared out of thin air, and Harry swiftly walked in the direction of her entrance. He was going to tell her he made a mistake, that they needed to get out of the island quickly, before of course she could figure out his intentions._

_But as he saw her while he approached her, her red hair soaked in the rain, her weirdly finding the whole thing hilarious of herself appearing in what Harry considered had to be the beginning of a flood, he changed his mind and decided that it was romantic anywhere he'd ask this question. So in mid-stride he changed his mind, and his hand reached into his pocket and took out a small ring box._

_Ginny was still distracted by the rain she didn't notice what was in Harry's hand until after he started to kneel. Harry thought she squealed but he really didn't hear as some loud bang occurred at the same time. He knew he'd have to yell out his proposal. And shorten it... there really was no way his initial planned words would be able to be said completely in such a weather._

_"Ginny," he yelled through the loud pattering sounds of rain. "I love you, I love being with you, and I would love to be with you for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?"_

_Ginny was saying 'yes' amongst other words, but Harry didn't hear that because at that moment the object that had just made that loud noise introduced itself into the conversation by hitting Harry. Or more accurately a coconut, carried by the fierce winds, slammed right on the side of Harry's head._

_You surely don't need to be told that knocked him out cold._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry was waiting for Ron at Tottenham Court Road, under the rain. It was rather unpleasant weather, but Harry couldn't reschedule this. Ron showed up and to Harry's annoyance, said they had to wait a bit longer as Percy was coming too.

And they waited even longer as the downpour continued. The umbrellas weren't too helpful considering the wind kept blowing them around. By the time Percy had arrived, they were soaked. Harry no longer even cared to try to hide from the rain. Percy showed up with Luna.

"Why didn't you just stay indoors?" he said.

"I thought it was just Ron..." began Harry. "Oh forget it. Let's move on."

"I think the rain in this month can be quite helpful," said Luna. "Washes away the invisible gnashters on your necks."

The three men just stopped and looked at her. Luna giggled a bit.

"I'm joking," she said, and they continued to move on. "Everyone knows gnashters aren't invisible," she said under her breath.

They made their way to a hotel nearby and went to the restaurant on the ground floor. Ron, to Harry's endless humour spotted Malfoy first.

"What's Malfoy doing in a muggle hotel...?" said Ron, who's looks of realisation always was patently obvious to anyone who paid attention. "Noooooo..."

"Unfortunately, yes," said Harry.

"No, Harry," said Ron, and then turning to Percy, "come on!"

"Don't look at him," said Harry. "It was his idea in the first place."

"For shame, Percy," said Ron.

"You know what they say politics makes..." said Percy before being interrupted.

"If you say Malfoy, me and bedfellows in the same sentence, so help me I'll deck you," said Ron. "Seriously, what does he want? Me to soften criminal laws?"

"Well more like trade laws," said Harry.

"Harry, we fought Voldemort," he said. "And then went to the Magical Law Enforcement, of which I was the only one of the three who didn't leave it. Do I look the least bit knowledgeable about trade laws? He could be wanting me to soften it to import dangerous crates of firegoats or something."

"You'll have advisors for that," said Harry. "And that's where we come in. I know the international laws, Percy and Luna the business side. Just go say hi to the Slytherin."

What progressed was one of the oddest meetings Harry had ever sat in. It took awhile so perhaps the highlights of it would suffice (and yes, it should). It started off pleasantly enough, asking about the kids etc... well if you forget the very subtle jab Malfoy made about Ron's divorce, and if you ever seen Ron even once you'll know he wasn't going to forget that.

"So," said Ron. "Do you still want to offer your support? Or you've changed your mind?"

"Do you find my issue near to your point of view?" said Malfoy.

"Unless someone's trying to import a bunch of foreign fighters," said Ron, "do you think I ever gave the slightest bit of thought to trade?"

"I've never given thought to what you gave thought of," said Malfoy.

Percy was about to say something, but Luna shushed him as she watched the two men intently. Harry nodded to her in approval.

"There's been agreements that has made it more difficult to sell things to some countries, but they can sell to us without issues," said Malfoy, sighing. "I need an attempt to level the playing field, making things easier for us, or harder for them. Can I count on you for that?"

"Hmmm," said Ron, stroking his chin. "I'll talk to Percy about the particulars of this matter and get back to."

"Get back to me, then," said Malfoy through gritted teeth. "I have a meeting to go to, if you'll excuse me."

When he left, Harry looked at Ron. Ron didn't say anything, looking innocent. Harry kicked his shin in response.

"Yes, yes," said Ron. "I am familiar with what he was talking about, but I wasn't going to be so easy."

"Really?" said Harry, shaking his head.

"Actually I wanted to see the reasoning behind such a weird situation," said Ron. "Maybe there's a good reason for that, which I'd agree with. I need to think about it first."

They sat for awhile longer talking aimlessly about things, including Luna's insistence in trying to get Percy to accept a fact-finding mission to Bolivia to find the Welsh Hummingdragon which 'left this island four centuries ago'. Percy looked like he had a headache after awhile.

"I think I preferred you in a bad mood," he said.

"Write a bad article and you'll see it," said Luna sweetly.

Harry wasn't paying much attention, watching the door. Ron was suspicious.

"What are you waiting for?" said Ron. "Another money-bags meeting?"

"No, no," said Harry, unconvincingly. "Just checking the weather, hoping it'll stop raining soon."

"Liar," said Ron, but Harry didn't respond.

"Well, then," said Percy. "I have to go. I'll contact you if anything comes up."

Harry's eyes still didn't leave the main doors. Ron asked again what was going on, and this time Harry did respond.

"Ah perfect timing," he said.

Ron turned to see Hermione walking in, also soaking wet from the rain. Seriously, they were the saddest group of wizards and witches getting soaked in the rain like that... but they were in muggle territory to be fair.

"Harry, what did you do?" said Ron.

"Nothing," said Harry, shaking his head. "It's just a coincidence. _Hermione_!" He waved her over.

"Harry, don't go anywhere, don't got anywhere," said Ron. "Don't make this awkward."

Hermione reached them. Harry looked at his watch.

"Oh look at the time," he said, to no one in particular. "Luna, we have that thing to go to."

Ron looked at Luna with pleading eyes. Luna looked at Harry, then Ron, and then at Harry again.

"Oh... that _thing_," said Luna. "I left the rash-remover at home, let's go get it for you."

Harry blushed at that idea.

"You're leaving?" said Hermione. "Didn't you call me to tell me to come here?"

"Ron's not leaving with us," said Harry. "My apologies. Dinner's on me then."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry called over a waiter and told him to charge everything on him. He obviously was known by this restaurant.

"Enjoy yourselves," he told them, and with a wink at Ron quickly left the place.

"That was odd," said Luna.

"Nah, I have my reasons," said Harry.

"They were married before, you know," said Luna.

"I hadn't forgotten," he said.

Before they left, Harry said one last thing.

"I never said I was sorry for you on losing Rolf," he said.

"And I never said sorry for you either," said Luna.

"Does... does..." started Harry. "Does it ever get back to normal?"

"Normal?" said Luna. "No, but it gets better. Only after time. I did have some help. Lorcan and Lysander were around. I'm sorry, Harry."

"No, thanks for the honesty," said Harry. "Take care."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ted Lupin was getting ready to go out when the apartment door was knocked. He was a bit surprised to see his godfather standing outside.

"Oh, having a night out?" asked Harry.

"Victoire wanted to check something out," said Ted.

"Victoire?" said Harry. "Again? That's an on-off-on-off-on thing isn't it?"

"I dunno," said Ted. "When we're together we let the little things bother us. When we're apart nobody interests us."

"Dysfunctional if you ask me," said Harry. "But I won't judge."

"Didn't you just do exactly that?" said Ted. "Anyways, it's nice of you to visit. You seem better these days."

"Well, I did mean to stop by sometime," said Harry.

"But you decided to avoid the world and all that," said Ted, waving it away. "Why don't you come with us?"

"You want me to tag along on your date?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's your godson and niece," said Ted. "It won't be a date if you come too."

"It bloody well won't be," said Harry. "I'll pass on that. We'll hang out some other time."

"As you wish," said Ted. "I'm happy you stopped by, and you seem a bit more available nowadays."

"I know," said Harry. "Nothing personal meant, I felt suffocated."

"I understand," said Ted.

The doorbell rang. As Ted was about to walk to the door, Harry pulled him by the shoulder.

"Listen, Ted," he said. "You deserve stability. If you feel like you're not in a good situation when you're with someone it's not smart to miss it once you've ended it. Either stay with her, or move on. This could be hurtful."

"I know, Harry," said Ted. "It's just I keep thinking 'this time will be different'."

"Well make this time different," said Harry. "Or accept it as the last time. You have your life and a career to live. And so does my niece."

"I'll try Harry," said Ted. "I promise."

"Uncle Harry!" said an excited Victoire.

"How's my favourite niece?" said Harry.

"You say that to every niece you have," she said, mock-pouting.

"I'm lying to them," said Harry, enveloping her in a hug.

"Sure, sure," she said. "So, you're coming along?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "What's the matter with you? Ted suggested the same thing," he said. "I'm not chaperoning a date."

"Some other time then, Uncle?" she said.

"Tell you what," said Harry, "bring along some of your cousins and that's a promise from me."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX**

_The fuzzy silhouette was the first thing Harry saw, and it slowly improved to the point Harry guessed he was in a room with white painted walls. Unlike what you would think, nobody was waiting patiently for him to wake up. In fact, the room was empty save for Harry._

_He didn't know at first where he was, nor did he know why he had such a splitting headache apart from it was not a hangover as he never really felt like his head was physically split in two with that. A few minutes, however, and he slowly remembered what had occurred. He quickly got up, he needed to find Ginny and find out what her answer was._

_The moment he got up from the pillow, whatever pain he had in his head tripled at least. He slowly lowered back his head onto the pillow. _

_He leaned to his side to get a drink of water from that enticing jug and glass that was on the bed-table to his right. After he put down the glass he noticed a small folded piece of paper. He squinted his eyes to read the letter as he didn't want to lean again to get his glasses. It was short, anyways._

Harry

They said you may be unconscious for days, so I headed back to get you some of your things.

Ginny

P.S. It's yes, of course. Not that either of us doubted it. If you hadn't proposed I would've done so soon enough. That, or kidnap you and force you in a wedding without your consent. Whichever sounded more appropriate at the time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 15  
It Starts With a Kiss, And Then Goes Downhill**

_The wind blew softly across the field that morning. The gentle cold in the air mixed with the still silence gave an almost solemn feel to the whole place. The white blanket of snow that draped the whole field, which was flat for miles in every direction without a single tree on it, was a beauty that needed to be seen to be believed. Stood at one end in the field was a huge tent, and on the other far side was a small tent. In between the grounds was filled with chairs, tables, a large dais along with a number of buffet length tables and musical instruments in one corner amongst many other things. The colours used most that day was red and golden, and they reflected brightly and brilliantly on the plain white background of the field._

_The outdoor portion of the wedding reception was empty at the moment. The huge tent was where the guests had slept the night before, while the small tent was for the bride and groom and the few family members of each they could fit in. Which meant parents and a sibling or two. _

_Oh, and Harry too._

_"For the love of Merlin," said Ron, snarling as he attempted to fix his tie correctly._

_"Need any help?" said Harry, with a smirk._

_"Ha," said Ron derisively. "I just saw Mum help you with yours, you spectacled git."_

_"I was further along in it than you were, at least," said Harry in return._

_"Out! Out!" said Ron. "I'm enjoying my day far too fine to be listening to your nonsense. I'll call you when I need you."_

_"As the best man," said Harry, "where else would I go?"_

_"Go to the bride," said Ron, waving his hand dismissively. "She's friends with you, too, for reasons that still escape me."_

_"As you wish," said Harry. "If... no, _when_ you need me, just yell."_

_"Yes, yes," said Ron. "Go away."_

_Harry exited Ron's room, and looking around realised he forgot where Hermione's room was. He walked for a few minutes in many directions, and stopped when he say Ginny standing in the corridor, trying to adjust something. Her dress was long and yellow, and Harry enjoyed how the red hair that fell on the dress seemed to contrast rather well._

_"You look amazing," he said._

_She looked up in surprise, clearly thinking she was alone. She smiled as she saw him. "Really?" she asked. "I didn't think the dress was great."_

_"Nah, the dress is fine," said Harry. "You just can out-shine the bride, that's all."_

_"Should you be seeing me in this dress yet?" said Ginny. "I thought muggles thought it was unlucky."_

_"Only if we were getting married, Gin," he said, laughing a bit at her. "Only if you and I were getting married."_

_"It's stupid anyways, so no laughing," said Ginny, smiling which faded as she went on. "Speaking of us, if mum hints one more time about us not being engaged so help me I'm sitting with the Grangers today."_

_"About the soon-to-no-longer-be-Granger," said Harry. "Where is she?"_

_"Go further down and then turn left," said Ginny._

_"Thanks," said Harry, and with a soft kiss he left Ginny and continued on._

_He knocked on a large door, and entered when he heard the invitation. Hermione was alone in the room and hadn't gotten into her bridal dress just yet. She still looked positively radiant in Harry's eyes. She was biting her lower lip, though, in some nervousness and didn't say a word as Harry stood there._

_"You okay, Hermione?" he asked._

_"Yes, yes," she said quickly._

_"If there's something bothering you, spit it out," said Harry. "You're about to walk down the aisle."_

_"I'm... it's just...you see," she said, stammering a bit. "You know what? Forget it, it's not important."_

_"Hermione Granger," he said. "You're standing here without your dress on, and the wedding should be starting soon. Spit... it... out."_

_" I just thought," said Hermione. "I thought when this event came, I would be sure..."_

_"Sure of what?" he asked._

_"Sure I was making the right decision," she replied. "Sure that I didn't rush into this. Sure that he was the one for me. Sure that... that... that I wasn't making a mistake."_

_Harry took Hermione's hands in his, and looked at her eyes. "Look at me," he said softly, as she was looking at the ground. "Look at me."_

_She slowly lifted her eyes to his. _

_"Do you know you love him?" he asked._

_"Yes."_

_"Do you know you want to be his wife?" he asked._

_"Yes."_

_"Have you met a man you would rather be with?" he asked._

_"Well, I haven't met every man around," she said, that voice of hers when she looked for a loophole in a logic._

_"That's not what I asked," said Harry. "From the men you have met, have you found someone you'd rather be with?"_

_"... no," she finally said. "But aren't I supposed to be 100% sure without any doubt?"_

_"Hermione, you're too logical," he said. "This is emotional. You can _never_ be 100% sure."_

_"Aren't you that way with Ginny?" she asked._

_"No," he said. With the look of doubt in her eyes, he continued firmly. "_No_, Hermione. Nobody can be sure about this. We can only know what we know right now. I love Ginny, and I see myself with her forever. I can't promise what'll happen tomorrow, or next year, or thirty years from now. I don't know what I or Ginny will feel then. You can't let an impossible imagination of perfection destroy the great things you have now because they're not perfect."_

_He shook her hands gently. "If you doubt your love for Ron, tell me and I'll whisk you to his room and we'll end it. If you doubt your desire to be with him as his wife, then say it."_

_"No, never," said Hermione. "I don't doubt that. I want to marry him. I do."_

_"Then that's it," said Harry. "Don't let these sappy love-stories we see on the telly fool you into thinking there's some magic where you meet a soul-mate and there's no doubts at all. It's preposterous, and nobody ever truly feels that."_

_Hermione looked more confident at Harry's words. A small smile appeared on her face, she kissed his cheek and then she walked to her dress._

_"I've got to get dressed," she said. "You're welcome to stay but I'd be naked," she said mischievously. _

_"I have nothing against that," said Harry. "But I do fear Ron killing me."_

_"That's if he got to you before Ginny did," said Hermione with a laugh._

_Harry closed the door behind him as he left the room with a sigh. He hoped he did the right thing... no he knew he did. _

_There was a wedding of the two best friends he had and ever will have to enjoy._

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **_

Hercule Clarkson struck again last night, but this time in France. He was becoming a nuisance again and nobody quite knew what his plans were. Again it was a robbery. Jason suggested to Harry that it seems like Clarkson was trying to mass up resources and wealth before he goes back to his home in Atlantis and wreck havoc there. Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"I wish he'd bugger off right now," said Harry. "Do you know what he took this time?"

"I don't, sir," said Jason. "The French Ministry is still investigating and won't volunteer any information until it sees fit."

"It'd be good if we knew anyone there to talk to," said Ron. "I've not dealt with many cases with the French."

"Leave it to me," said Harry. "I've had dealings with them a few times in my previous post. Meeting over."

With that, the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement ended the meeting.

Harry went back to his office, told Ilena to get the French Minister for International Affairs for him. Ilena threw some floo powder.

"Ministre des affaires internationales de la France," she said, and started talking to the person on the other side of the line.

Hermione walked into Harry's office.

"Are you free this evening?" she said.

"Yep," he said. "What are you thinking?"

"Dinner," she said.

"Sounds good," said Harry. "Where?"

"I'll tell you when I've booked somewhere," she said. "Could you mention it to Ron?"

"Will do."

Ilena then yelled to Harry, "It's ready."

"I'll get out of your way," said Hermione. "See you."

"See you," said Harry, turning to the fireplace.

"Mr. Potter," said the French official. "If you'll forgive me, this conversation has to be short."

"No forgiveness necessary, sir," said Harry. "I'll keep it so. I need someone from my office to come down to Paris to look into the matter."

"Really?" said the French official. "We shall provide you with the information you require. This is our investigation."

"We have no intention of interference," said Harry. "I have reason to believe that Clarkson intends to cause trouble in Britain moreso than the other countries, so if he leaves any clues regarding his plans here it would be significant. I just need someone to observe, that is all."

The French official was silent for a moment. "Just one Auror," he then said.

"Done," said Harry. "Don't let me keep you, thank you."

When the fire died down, Harry yelled, "Ilena! Get me Ron."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Hermione was waiting in the restaurant, having come a few minutes before they agreed to meet. She looked around and had to admit she liked this place. She was earning enough money to say she lived in comfort, but Harry's wealth never diminished and in fact grew as he invested in many things. In fact, he had converted a fair amount into muggle assests and he would often swear he was now doing far wealthier as a muggle and didn't have much left in wizarding gold.

The point was, this sort of place was far too obscure and expensive for Hermione to have dinner just any night. She would've needed an occasion or something to book here. Harry, though, picked today and she sighed thinking it'll be the usual thing she and Ron dealt with Harry where Harry would insist on paying and they'd vehemently disagree. They'd argue a bit and then the bill would come and Harry would flash it to them, and they'd sit back and sullenly quiet.

She spotted Harry walking, quickly noticing he was alone.

"Sorry for being late," he said, taking his seat.

"No need, I was early," she said. "Where's Ron?"

"Out of the country," said Harry. "Auror business."

"You know, one thing I miss from working in magical law enforcment was the rare travels we got," said Hermione. "You didn't want to travel?"

"I really did want to," said Harry. "But there's so much paperwork to go through, reports and authorizations. Better I didn't, I haven't gone to Paris since..."

"I remember that fight," said Hermione. "None of us really saw it coming, or understood it to be honest."

"I thought I had ruined it when we became distant," said Harry, who was staring at his glass of water intently as he withdrew into his thoughts. His eyes became distant, his voice softer, his body still. Hermione watched fascinated, but silent as he went on. "It was soaking wet when she finally came by. I was _this close_ to telling her it was over, that such pain was not to be experienced more than once from any single person. Thank goodness she spoke first. I still have no idea where she was considering she was wholly inappropriately dressed for the torrential rain we were getting. We got side-tracked quickly from that interesting me."

He lifted the glass, and then lowered it without having a sip. A small amount of the liquid spilled off the side as he put it down, but he didn't pay attention to it or it didn't even catch his attention. He remained silent as his left index finger casually stroked the rim of the glass.

"It was a good day," he said, finally. He looked up, seeing Hermione sitting across from him he let a smile slowly spread on his face. "Let's order," he said, as the waiter came by to their table.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron wasn't enjoying Paris. It looked amazing, but when every minute he was there was linked to the investigation it really was a shame he couldn't squeeze any time to look around. He also knew the drill; don't interfere, don't impose himself, don't distract. He was purely there for information gathering, no investigation whatsoever.

It was clear pretty quickly what had happened. An antique shop was robbed. Well, _the_ magical antique shop was robbed. A shop centuries old and famous across the magical world. Two staffs, three amulets and a demon-summoning candle were the prominent objects robbed amongst others.

Ron paid close attention, but had difficulty considering his French was terrible. He kept asking for translations and didn't care how annoying he was. There were no reports of where Clarkson headed to next but Ron was pretty sure Clarkson went back to Britain. What was it he wanted, nobody could tell. For all expectations, one would've thought he'd have gone back to Atlantis by now, but there was something or multiple things Clarkson wanted. Ron suspected it was in Gringotts, and Clarkson hadn't given up that easily just yet. It was all speculative right now.

As he walked back to the French Ministry so he could use a fireplace to floo his way back, he noticed a small jewelry store and thought to himself he should pick something up for Hermione.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry walked down the street with Hermione after they were done with dinner. Hermione was laughing at something Harry said, or more like laughing at Harry himself. Harry was defending himself but to no avail.

"Well," she said. "I'm going that way home."

"And I've got to go the other way," he said.

"I have no idea why we've just pointed out something we both knew," she said, laughing.

"I blame the drink," said Harry.

"You had water," she said, hitting his shoulder.

"Yeah, I never saw it coming," said Harry.

"Anyways, I have to go," she said. "Have a lovely night."

Harry didn't say anything, and she waited there patiently for him to say something so she could head off. They stood under a streetlight and the streets were empty to a degree, save for a car or two that whizzed by once in a while. She kept waiting, but didn't know what the pause was...

Until he kissed her. She was motionless with shock at first when their lips met. She didn't see that coming. She didn't do or say anything, because you know, of the shock. Well, as the seconds wore on she knew the excuse of it being due to shock wore off and she didn't seem to want to do anything.

She noticed she was kissing back, matching his pauses in mid-kissing to start her own kisses. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. His lips moved to her cheeks as he continued to plant her with the softest of kisses. She let out a low moan as his lips returned to her lips and then...

He pulled back from her without warning. His face was painted with distress and confusion. She didn't know why he pulled back until... the blood rushed back into her brain.

"Oh, shit," he whispered. "Oh, what the bloody hell?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 16  
Take A Breath**

_The day was very hot, and the kids didn't wait to ask to run to the garden at the back of the house. Lily squealed with laughter when Albus said she couldn't catch up with him to the swing. James made his way to the neighbour's kid... what was his name? Bill... Ben...?_

_Harry just took out the garden chair, which really looked its age but was his favourite so he never threw it to the amusement of his wife and kids, and took out a book he was in the middle of reading. He kept an eye out just in case the kids strayed too far but they hadn't attempted anything of the sort before. _

_After about a half an hour, with the kids still enjoying themselves, Ron and Hermione popped by with their kids, and Harry put down the book. Hermione went on to play with the kids, while Ron dragged a chair to sit by Harry._

_"What are you reading?" he asked._

_"Something Ginny recommended," said Harry. "Not feeling what she likes from it though."_

_"Ah," said Ron, looking knowledgeable. "Some romantic sappy story?"_

_"Ginny?" asked Harry with a confused look._

_"Ah, I forgot," said Ron, shaking his head. "Something where a few people die?"_

_"A few? Try half the characters," said Harry. "And I still have a third left of the book. Your sister has issues, mate."_

_"True, true," said Ron. "I feel sorry for the poor git that marries her."_

_"It's always lovely to walk into your brother and husband speaking so fondly of one," said a voice from the back door of the house._

_Ginny walked in, still wearing the white jersey she left with. Harry's eyes were distracted by the legs that weren't covered by Ginny's shorts. Ginny repressed a smile when she noticed Harry slowly lick his lips. Ron learnt a long time ago not to notice such things._

_"How did the kicking ball 'sport' go?" asked Ron._

_"The football game," she shot Ron a dismissive look, "went splended. Two-nil win, and Fulham is now tenth on the table. Lovely day."_

_She sat on Harry's lap. It was a bit uncomfortable for Harry as he didn't adjust his position for her sitting on him, but he enjoyed the pleasure of it far more than the discomfort so he remained contentedly silent._

_Hermione came up to them, and grabbed another chair from the house to take outside. They sat awhile in silence as they watched the kids and went into their own thoughts._

_"Did you ever think life would be like this?" asked Hermione._

_"Like what?" said Ron._

_"Like this," she repeated, pointing at the kids. "Us, parents, living in houses with responsibilities. I never really thought about this in Hogwarts."_

_"That's because you were thinking of what you'd be doing as a kid," said Harry. "You always were doing something, if not planning it."_

_"So what about you?" said Hermione._

_"Me?" said Harry._

_"Yes, Mr Potter, you," she said. "Did you see yourself here, like this?"_

_Harry was quiet for a bit, to the extent that the others wondered if he didn't even want to answer the question. But after a moment he talked._

_"I wasn't raised in a loving house before Hogwarts," he said, speaking slowly. "At Hogwarts I wasn't away from risking death for very long. I didn't even know if I was going to survive this whole thing."_

_He paused again._

_"Truthfully," he continued. "I am still surprised things are like this at all."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Her face quickly twisted into pure consternation. She didn't know how or why it happened, only that things suddenly swerved into the realms of the impossible. No warning from him, no resistance from her.

"What the hell did I do?" continued Harry. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Calm down Harry," she said.

"I took advantage of you," he said, his distressing only increasing as he kept talking.

"Come off it," she said. "I didn't resist, now did I? We both went in."

"I started it."

"I didn't end it."

"Then we're both horrible, horrible little people," he said, not even looking at her then. It was almost like he was talking to himself.

"Why 'little'?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said, grabbing his hair. "It just sounded like it fit."

"Harry, stop and calm down," she said. "Take a breath."

"Ron is going to kill me," he said loudly, not even acknowledging Hermione now. "He's going to stick his wand so far up and then say the killing curse. There's a special place in hell for what I did."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.

"Relax," she said. "I'm panicking because it's you. I was kissing _you_. Why is Ron going to kill you?"

"He..." said Harry, who then paused as if he wondered if he should continue. "Oh what the heck, we've crossed a larger line. He wants to get back with you."

"Wha-?" said Hermione, stepping back in shock. "When the bloody hell did that happen?"

"He mentioned it a few days ago," said Harry.

"And then you decide to kiss me?" said Hermione. "Your timing, Potter, as always is impeccable."

"I didn't decide nothing!" said Harry, desperate that she believe him. "It was just now, when I looked at you. I suddenly had this urge to lean forward."

"And you just _did_?"

"I've held back all these feelings for so long," he said. "And just when you and Ron have convinced me to open up... I guess I didn't realise how much control I let go."

A look of horror then set on his face, confusing Hermione. Well, confusing her until Harry's next words.

"_Ginny_," he whispered. "How could I? How could I?"

And before Hermione could put a word in, Harry bid her good night and apologised. And then he apparated away with the faintest of pops imaginable.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ted Lupin was out with Victoire Weasley, and he tried to keep the words of his godfather in his mind as he did so. Because of that, he was distracted as they talked over lunch in a nearby sandwich store.

"Knut for your thoughts," she said.

"Wha-? Oh, nothing," said Ted. "It's just something Harry said."

"What did Uncle Harry say?" she asked.

"He mentioned that we may need to figure out where we stand," he said. "Otherwise one of us could end up hurt."

"So my uncle gave his godson the talk to protect me?" she said, her eyebrows raised. "There's something weird about that."

"No, no," he said. "He wasn't warning me off or anything. "He just said that we may as well decide whether we're moving forward or not, and move on either way."

"You know I like you," said Victoire.

"I know," he said. "But aren't you getting tired of the break-ups and make-ups?"

"Are you saying you're getting tired?" she said, in slight accusation. He didn't respond but just looked at her. After a few seconds she sighed. "Yes, I am," she said.

"We'll talk about it sometime," said Ted. "Now, lemme have a bite of your sandwich."

"Back off, monsieur," she said, swatting his hand away.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Hermione hadn't seen Harry in days. This time he seemed very effective in being away from her. Although, if Hermione was being pretty honest with herself she hadn't sought him out at all. Perhaps she was avoiding him.

What she couldn't avoid, however, were her thoughts. No matter how much she tried. She was seated in her office, looking outside her window (the magical windows which at that moment showed a snowy plane). As she saw the snow-covered trees, she couldn't help but feel pangs of guilt. Yet her other thoughts went in the opposite directions, as her fingers slowly moved across her lower lip she lost herself deeper in that thought, the bright streetlight cutting through a dark street, the soft laugh cutting through the silence in the air, the focus of her attention in front of her... leaning forward...

"Hermione?" said a voice, breaking into her trance.

"Wha-" she gave a start as she spoke.

"Hermione," said the voice again, and she noticed it was one of the Minister's secretaries. "I'm sorry, but I knocked."

"Oh," said Hermione, arranging her table, even though everything was in order. "Come in, come in. Was there anything you wanted?"

"Yes," said the person. "The Minister wants a report on Italian laws regarding dragon importation/exportation."

"Are we trying to get the Sicilian Sharptail again?" she asked, sighing and rubbing her head.

"Yes," said the secretary. "Could you look for another legal avenue to get it transported here?"

"I'll look into it," said Hermione. "This is why I don't like when people outside call in favours in the Ministry."

"I'll leave you be," said the secretary, closing the door on the way out.

Hermione looked back at the window, and the thoughts did not need any invitation to return. Suddenly she saw herself on a pavement-

Oh forget this, she grabbed her bag and almost ran for the door. She needed something to distract her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron noticed Harry had appeared distant all day, but said nothing of it. Harry being distant was actually the norm for the past (almost) five years. He hoped Harry didn't become reclusive again but Harry being a bit more friendly one day and then reverting to distant was a frequent occurrence. Ron felt bad for Harry, but was a bit too distracted at the moment.

Distracted with giving a speech.

"Bloody hell," said Ron. "How do I start it? Do I tell a joke?"

"Do I look like I've given a campaign speech before?" said Harry. "But no, don't tell a joke."

"Please don't," said Percy, walking in on them. "I don't want the first impression of you being a flat joke."

"How do I start?" said Ron, looking angrily at the two of them. "This should be one of you two buggers up there. I don't give speeches."

They were standing behind a big stage, Ron angrily pointing his finger in their direction. It was clear he was considering pointing a different finger but we'll move on.

"Sadly, though, it's you who's going to do it," said Harry. "Wait," he paused, listening. "I think the introduction is about to end. Your name's about to be called. Get up the stairs."

As Ron got up the stairs, far too slowly for Harry's liking who pushed him from the back to no avail, Ron was looking at them with wide eyes.

"How many people are out there?" he hissed at them.

"Surprising amount considering it's the very beginning of the campaign," said Percy. "Now go!"

Ron went passed the curtains and onto the stage, they heard silence broken by a cough from Ron.

"Just how many people are in the audience today?" asked Harry.

"Ten or eleven," said Percy. "Are we counting the both of us too?"

"_Ten_?" asked Harry, derisively. "I think a milkman sales-pitch could garner more than that!"

"It's the first speech," said Percy. "Nobody shows up to someone new's first speech. Let's go listen to it."

"Erm..." was Ron's first word. "I'm... Ronald Weasley, head of the Auror Office. And I'm... I'm..."

Percy pointed at a banner that was hanging at the other side of the room. Ron squinted his eyes due to the glare of the bright lights, and then read it.

"I'm running for Minister for Magic," he said. "Let's... bring back the... good times?"

Percy groaned rather loudly, and waved his wand to make the letters larger.

"Let's bring back the great template for our nation's future," said Ron.

"Goodness," said Harry, shooting a look at Percy. "Who the hell came up with that? A mouthful and incredibly boring."

"I thought you wrote that," said Percy. "I was quiet out of politeness. Must've been the new guy I just hired. I'd fire him for that if we had alternatives. Oh well, he'll have his second chance."

"Why did Ron have to say it?" said Harry.

"I grabbed the nearest slogan," said Percy. "He was stuttering for Merlin's sake."

"He's not doing too badly right now," said Harry.

"Slight improvement," said Percy. "Did he just say the Minister's job was _really_ important and needed an important person to do it? Twice?"

"Yes," said Harry, rubbing his head. "I think he did."

"This is going to be a long campaign," said Percy.

"Figuratively, I hope you mean," said Harry. "We only have two months. You're going to have to come up with some real good speeches."

"I'll help," said Luna, joining them. "I _am_ communications manager, after all."

"Any discussion about snargles or snoring kacks, and so help me I'll bite you," said Percy.

"Snorkacks," Luna corrected him, seriously. But she quickly became silent at the look he gave her.

"Hush," said Harry. "I think Ron just mentioned his desire to see us face our "very important" problems. If he says important one more time I swear I'll stun him right there on the stage."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

When Harry reached his home that night, he noticed a few missed calls on his phone. He had it on silent for the past few hours so didn't know someone was calling him. It didn't take a psychic to figure out who was trying to reach him.

He sighed as he put the phone down on the dresser by his bed. He wasn't going to answer it that night. No, he wasn't going to act all childish and ignore the situation (well... after tonight that is), but he was tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

He lay on his bed, but sleep was the last thing to come to him right then. His thoughts were fast and restless, jumping about from subject to subject and person to person. He rolled over a number of times trying to get into a comfortable position to get sleep going, but no luck. A streetlight appeared in his mind, a red blur as he sat in the passenger seat, Ron...

After an hour, he got up and decided to watch some television to pass the time until he got sleepy. However, as he sat down on his couch and faced the television, his hand never moved towards the remote control on the table. He stared at the black screen of the television so intently one would almost believe Harry envisioned the thoughts in his head, that so effortlessly broke through his mental resistances, were playing on the screen in front of him.

It's been almost five years since that day. And contrary to what the others thought, Harry wasn't still mourning like it happened yesterday. He wasn't crying himself to sleep and hadn't in about three years. His voice didn't catch the moment he heard Ginny's name, or Albus', or Lily's, or James' - that hadn't happened for over a year. And he no longer wished he had died that day too... true, he still wished he could trade places with any of them, just so that person could continue on living for themselves and move on.

He still missed her achingly. He missed his children at least every day that passed. And he still feared moving on would be treasonous to their memory. They were his everything, for lack of a better description. Who could replace that? Why would he want to replace that? And even if something were to come up, why would he even attempt something new when prior experiences didn't seem to go well?

Because _that's_ where Harry stood right now. Of everyone in his family, he didn't see a reason to move on. Everyone he loved, or would've come to love (like his parents), perished. The fact of the matter is Harry was too frightened to attempt anything else. Too frightened that the moment he opened up, whatever his intentions were, that something would go terribly wrong again. He didn't know if his heart could handle it again.

He then came to the least frequent thought of his mind: Hermione. He was as surprised as Hermione at his action. He never, never, gave thought about romantic feelings to her. Not once in all his years. The last time he genuinely checked her out was in fourth year at the Yule Ball when even he had to admit she looked positively gorgeous. People always thought for years that they had feelings for them, to the extent the both of them just stopped trying to explaining them away. They truly did love each other, and he couldn't not love her after school when she was the only person who never, not once, turned her back on him when others did. The only person at Hogwarts on whose loyalty he could count on when the goblet of fire spat out his name.

But romance? He never thought of that. Cho had all his attention at first. Then Ginny grabbed his right after a small gap. He never stopped to consider Hermione, and she never gave the slightest indication she stopped to think of him.

Yet, when they were speaking on the pavement the previous night, the thought of her lips moving looked so pretty to him without warning. The way her hair was still unmanageable at times and at that night suddenly entranced him. He just wanted to get closer to her, without any indication just a minute earlier. He started talking about meaningless things because he was thinking so hard of what his body wanted to do that he wasn't paying attention to the conversation, however light it was. Then even meaningless comments failed him, as his mind lost complete control of his speech at that moment, and he leaned forward. All this time having held his emotions in check in public to prevent others seeing the wreck he was inside created a brittle wall, and him trying to loosen up to let his best friends in probably had an effect in him forgetting how he was conducting himself. He moved forward with a speed that surprised him and kissed her. And, to his utter dismay, he enjoyed that so much.

While there was the main fear of losing a dear friend if things went to hades, there were two main fears of his regarding continuing this path. One of the two was the obvious; how would Ron, his best friend since childhood, his brother-in-law, react to this? Especially after saying he wanted to try to get her back? After Harry tried to help out in getting them back together? The whole situation was nearly neurotic.

The second fear wasn't obvious. It just felt... guilty doing something like that to someone who Ginny knew. Someone Ginny was somewhat close to, and certainly very close to regarding family. As confusing as a notion as it was, it made Harry feel a an extra dose of wrong thinking that. If he met a new lady he never knew before, he could have felt he was moving on. But with someone he knew before he even met his wife, someone he was closer to than almost anyone before he even got to know his wife... it would start the obvious question; why didn't he just attempt it with Hermione before Ginny? Was it circumstances that pushed Harry to Ginny and not the sole reason of absolute affection?

The questions sounded crazy, but they still kept coming to Harry as he sat on the couch, staring at the black screen in a dark room, in the dead of night. And another scary, scary thought also then popped up. Did he catch her in surprise or...?

Was Hermione kissing him back?


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 17  
Where Do I Go**

_When Harry stormed out of his hospital room at St Mungo's after awakening, he had no idea which direction he wanted to go. He first thought of going home, but then quickly changed his mind considering the house would be filled with everything that reminded him of what he happened. _

_It actually took him quite a while to even allow the facts to sink in. In the beginning he was numb enough that he could only decide to apparate out._

_The first place he apparated to he didn't give much thought to his destination. He found himself appearing outside the Hogwarts perimeter. The soft rustle of the leaves were the only thing that broke the silence. The wind blowing in his neck softly brushed him as he stood there. He shut his eyes for a moment to try to block any thought out. He wouldn't be disturbed here, he wasn't close to where the school path led to Hogsmeade. And considering the students had all left for home that day, the only person he could bump into was a professor, and they didn't tend to just walk about outside of Hogwarts for no reason (apart from Hagrid)._

_Harry started to walk again, but walked away from the school. He followed a path he really wasn't familiar with. He avoided the thick trees but continued where the ground was a flat enough at least to not disturb his walk. A bunch of thoughts rushed through his head, against his wishes, but none stood still enough for him to grasp its content. _

_He didn't know when he started crying, only when his hand touched his face and he felt it wet did he notice it. He wiped it away, knowing it was futile. He continued walking, and found himself standing before far too thick trees that he'd have to risk entering them, or turning back. Neither option appealed to him, so he apparated away to another destination he, again, really didn't give much thought of._

_It wasn't considered wise to apparate blindly. You had no idea where you could appear, and finding yourself on the edge of a bridge with not enough ground support and falling, where the shock of the fall causes you to lose grasp of your wand was unlikely, but possible. That, or appearing in the middle of a zoo enclosure where a tiger is startled by your presence and mauls you. And if you're not persuaded by these death scenarios, there's always the greater possibility of appearing right in front of a group of muggles. And nowadays with everyone and their dogs having phones that could videotape on a moment's notice, that was a risk. It was difficult explaining that to purebloods who didn't have much technology with them. _

_Obviously, and understandably, at that moment Harry did not give a damn. His mind felt more numb than if he was injected with an anaesthetic. He found himself appearing in a beach. It took him a few seconds to recognise it, but it was where Ginny and he spent Christmas together so many years ago. Being a reminder of his wife, Harry was about to apparate away, but the sight of the waves crashing onto the shore stopped him._

_He sat down on the sand, and stared at the water, the deep blue water. The sun was rising and not yet at its highest peak. The beach was empty at the moment, possibly too early for those who would come. He leaned back onto a large rock and silently looked in front of him. He touched his cheek and it was still wet._

_And then, where anyone who knew him was half the world away from him, alone in a beautiful piece of the planet's nature, his shoulders shook as the sobs could no longer be kept back._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

The phone kept ringing but he wasn't picking up. After this time, Hermione gave up and stopped calling. She didn't like the awkwardness she feared may happen and tried to start a conversation early before too much time passed and that weird situation happens when neither person knew who should speak first.

She made her last phone call attempt from a rather un-Hermione location; a bar. As she put her phone back into her pocket, her drink was placed in front of her. Raising the glass to the bartender, she drank from it. She hissed softly after swallowing. Yeah, this tasted like burning crap in her throat. How in the hell did Ron drink this when he had bad days? Hermione wondered if this made one find the bad problem they had more appealing to this sip of Satan's fire. She ordered something she rather preferred, but was not as hard admittedly. No point pretending.

Speaking of pretending, her thoughts went back to Harry. It was a right mess she thought, considering he dropped the load that Ron wanted to try to mend things and attempt another go. Harry was her friend, but Ron... Ron was the only person she ever deeply loved. And it broke her the way the marriage seemed to slowly disappear in front of her eyes. She had no idea when or how it began, but things got distant, and then tense. If there was any way to give Rose and Hugo back their parents together, could she deny them an attempt at least? Could she deny herself that?

Which went back to Harry. Contrary to whatever some people thought, she never saw him as a brother. In fact, being sole kids in their respective families, Hermione didn't think she nor Harry even knew how to feel for someone as a sibling. Yes, she was aware it was merely an expression, but it wouldn't be her if she didn't attempt to deconstruct a sentence like "I see him/her like a brother/sister".

The bar she was in was a muggle bar, and she didn't really have much chance of bumping into someone she knew. Which was precisely what she wanted at that moment. Apart from Harry, who wasn't returning her calls, she really wanted to just think about things.

And as she sat there, sipping on her more favoured drink, she really couldn't come to a conclusion about anything. Things just got more muddled in her head as she added more and more scenarios on how they could go wrong. If she and Ron tried again and failed, it would be terrible and worse considering her children's hopes would be raised only to be dashed again. If she tried with Harry, she risked losing a friend and/or alienating their spouse's family and friends with it. Why alienate? Because it seemed rather sneaky considering they'd been friends for so long, considering Ron and Harry were just as close friends for just as long too.

She didn't add one thing that she thought could go right.

Apart from... she really was thinking about that kiss alot.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron Weasley didn't think he had that good of a first speech, but he didn't admit to the others that as he stood there, he actually began to like the centre stage. For the first time, he was in a position that put him in a spotlight that he was the first or the only one experiencing. There wasn't an older brother who ran for Minister, nor did his father. And Harry and Hermione weren't with him as a group. He felt alone up there, with those helping him back behind the stage and very helpful but at that moment it was all him. It felt very different for him, and if he was honest, he wanted to keep seeing how it would proceed.

He was playing with a small bracelet he bought for Hermione back in France. It was a small piece of really simple design, but the simplicity only oddly made it more attractive.

The words Harry said to him kept replaying in his head over and over again the past few days. It really was a wonder she and him were able to remain congenial after a divorce. Also, he genuinely had no idea how the marriage broke down, and Harry had a point; if they didn't know where things went wrong how could he know if they were capable of being fixed? The slow break-down of the relationship was insidious and unrelenting. If they didn't know how exactly things went wrong, how could he think they could fix it a second time round? There wasn't any issue that split them apart, nothing major at least that would've stood on its own, and there wasn't an increase in the number of fights that soured their views on one another. They just grew more distant from one another, they didn't seem to enjoy one another's presence as much as they did when they were younger. They each sought solace in seeking solitude, and over time it reached a point where one day they looked at one another and realised how far things had gone.

The deaths of Ginny and the kids seemed to have prolonged their failing marriage and showed them why it had to end simultaneously. The shock of losing their relatives, and Harry's family, numbed the issue that the two of them managed to push on through and work together to try to do whatever they could to help out. But the way they each found out about it did show how distant they had become.

Hermione had heard about it first, having watched the muggle news and watched a report about how a muggle bus had hit a car. Upon recognising the car as belonging to the Potters and the street right outside King's Cross, she had rushed out to seek them. Ron, on the other hand, heard about it from a colleague who was working at St Mungo's.

You may shake your head at this and say it wasn't possible, but three days had passed since both hearing about it and Hermione and Ron even found themselves in the same room. They literally managed to find themselves moving from place to place and never bumped into one another. Hermione had slept at St Mungo's that night, waiting for Harry to wake up. Whereas Ron was at their home consoling Hugo and Rose. Hermione went the second day back home to talk to the kids, but by then Ron had left to talk with his parents. By the time Hermione had gone to the Weasleys, Ron had already started looking for Harry, because by then everyone realised nobody could account for his location at that time.

What was more damning was the fact that, at no time, not once, did they sought one another out in those three days. Finally on the fourth day when Ron came back late at night they saw one another in the living room. They didn't exchange any words, but hugged in the middle of the room, still standing, and proceeded to cry their pain out at the loss of his sister and their nephews and niece.

For the next few months, Hermione and Ron did almost everything together, working hard at trying to keep a strong face for their kids, and consoling one another whenever they had a break that allowed them to do so. It was a huge distraction from their marriage, and an unwelcome one considering the tragedy of the event, but they managed to proceed as if nothing was wrong and pushed one another forward.

Ron did not know what he would've done if Hermione wasn't around. Hermione thought the exact same thing about Ron.

But as the pain settled, and time passed, they could push on no longer, and they were left forced to acknowledge that things had not been the loving marriage for them for quite a long time, and the aftermath of the tragic accident was only a temporary retreat from the reality of the situation.

Ron sat on his bed, still staring at the piece of jewellery. He really didn't know what to do. But he still cared deeply about her. How could he not? After all the history they had? He really wanted to make this work, but was afraid of the consequences if he attempted something stupid.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry wanted to stay at home after work, but had no excuse when asked if he was showing up. As head of his department, it wouldn't be a good beginning to blow off a major dinner that was to raise funds for charity. It was a muggle dinner, but an odd tradition started years back when a muggle-born Minister for Magic who came a couple of terms after Kingsley accepted an invitation from the muggle Prime Minister to show up. Now, muggle-born members of the Ministry would come to the dinner every year as a means to foster some friendly ties with the muggle government. They'd have various excuses for what they worked as, considering they couldn't mention their actual work to muggles unfamiliar with the magical world. There were always a few muggles with magical relatives. Harry would say he was a private businessman, while Hermione claimed she worked for a nongovernment organisation that worked with the foreign office. Ron would come as her husband only, as his desire to claim to be a sports player was shot down by Harry and Hermione. Ron didn't come to the dinners after his divorce, but Hermione, still muggle-born, would go.

It was always a simple, but interesting event. There were people who had travelled to all over the world so conversation was diverse enough to catch most people's interests. He came early with the intention of going home swiftly enough without appearing rude, for obvious reasons to avoid a certain muggle-born brunette. He was pulled into a talk about someone who had travelled the past year. He listened as politely as he could but didn't really understand the conversation.

He pulled his way out of the conversation and sat on a chair. As he still was reluctant to accept, the person who he would attempt to avoid always seemed to approach him without him having any success in avoiding him/her.

Hermione sat without saying a word, squeezing his shoulder. They sat silently together, watching the party move about in front of them. A soft, beautiful tune started to play and a few individuals went to dance to it. They looked at one another.

He pointed at the floor, tilting his head.

She shook her head.

He sighed with relief and smiled.

She smiled right back.

His smiled faltered, and then went away. But he kept looking in her direction.

She didn't break the gaze, either.

He had no idea how much time had passed as they looked at one another, but something finally seemed to switch on in his head. He got to his feet, brushed her shoulder in affection.

And then walked away.

* * *

A/N: If you have an opinion on how the story is going, please do mention it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 18  
Atlantis**

A long, long, long time ago in ancient times, when the world was wild and humans far less numerous than that of today, there lay an island in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. An island of immense size and power. An island of great riches and strength. An island far too proud not to ensure the world knew of its dominance.

Atlantis was an island of seven kings and queens. An island where the rocks surrounding were sharp enough to tear down ships and the weather unpredictable enough to wear down all but the strongest of men. And with the harsh elements, the people of Atlantis wear molded into a population that valued the purity of battle and the fires of war.

But they were not always like that. Earlier on, the island was as just as they were strong, as likely to offer a hand in assistance as they were willing to strike a blow in battle. Yet power unchecked rarely has a good effect on people. They came to believe their strength was a sign of favour from the gods. They believed their origins from Poseidon meant their superiority over others.

They invaded the ancient lands to the east of them. They took Carthage centuries before it was strong, they took parts of what would be Roman Empire before Rome was founded. They enslaved those who they conquered, and no one foresaw any rising up to them, and nobody did. The Atheneans began to tremble with fear when the army of Atlantis gathered near Athens.

The population of Atlantis was a mix of the magical and the muggle, and their unity defied the norms anywhere else in the world. Their willingness to work together, to fight together and to inter-marry gave them an advantage their enemies never did (or was it could) imitate. Athens feared its end, and they joined together with the city states surrounding them to face the horde outside the city of Athens. But none truly believed victory was possible.

However, while unexpected but not actually surprising, the acts of violence perpetrated by Atlantis upon others reverberated within the island. The idea of might being a sign of being worthy wasn't only applied overseas but now within the island. The wizards and muggles began to quarrel more and more, first between them, and then as it went on within their respective communities.

The innovations of violence continued even faster than before. The muggles developed war technologies that were far beyond the times of the rest of the world, the wizards responded by utilising the deeper and deeper recesses of magical power in response. Thousands died, and thousands more followed.

It continued onwards until a wizard developed a staff of immense power. It was unknown how long it took him to make it, or how he tapped into magic to make it so, but it was said the staff was so powerful that upon it's making, the ground underneath it shook for a day and a half before slowly subsiding.

The battles grew fiercer, but the staff was not yet used. Some wizards took issue with that, they were of the opinion that when one has a weapon and the stakes this high, it would be suicidal not to use it. The wizard did not use it. The other wizards grew more confused with this strategy. Yet, the wizard still did not use it.

Only when the battle got so fierce that the flames burning would reach a height of unbelievable magnitude, where the smoke could be seen for miles and miles away, did the wizard walk into the battlefield with the staff.

The staff wasn't shaped like most staffs were. In homage, or in arrogance, it was shaped like Poseidon's trident and was over two metres long. The staff hummed softly as it was taken to the field, almost as if it was aware of it about to be used.

While disputed, it was claimed that the whole battle stood still as they watched the staff approach. The wizard crashed it down to the ground. The earth beneath shook as it struck, a depression began to form. From the tip, lightning struck out like the cobra bite and slammed into the muggle armies. A wave of energy caused a shocking amount of damage in one go.

The muggles didn't wait, and rushed away from the battle. The wizards cheered their immediate victory.

It took them too long to realise the depression caused by the staff hadn't ended. It proceeded on and on, a large hole grew under their feet, which then became a crater beneath them. Salt water began to seep out from the bottom of the crater, and then gushed out. The air around them hummed as they felt the vibrations in the atmosphere surrounding them. The sound of harsh wind blowing, despite there being no wind, and crackles could be heard all over the island.

The wizards wasted no time waiting, and proceeded to attempt to use their magic to slow the formation, or in the more cowardly (or wise depending on your perspective) ones to escape. To their incredible horror, they noticed nothing was occurring... as in no magic spell was working.

What the wizards couldn't see at that moment, was all over the island mountains and hills shook as the vibrations grew stronger. The tallest mountain in the island shook the most violently, and with an almighty groan it began to collapse upon itself. Soon the other mountains and hills followed.

The waves of the seas frothed with eagerness as it spread at all sides of the island into the coast. The birds cried to the heavens as they swarmed out of the island in desperate flight. The flightless animals had no such luck, but their cries were capable of freezing blood within the veins.

The island shook and groaned, tumbled and crashed for a day and night, with the inhabitants knowing with no doubt that it was sinking into the ocean. The seas swallowed the shores while the depression was gushing water from inside the island.

And then, the oceans calmed as it claimed the entire island.

The magical people of Athens went into more details on their theory of what happened. Zeus, in seeing the corruption and violence of the island, decided that it had to be destroyed. And Zeus breathed words into the staff and provided it to the wizards so that they could cause their own downfall. What words Zeus said, though, is no longer known.

This story of the fall of Atlantis is considered a myth today, even within the magical population of the world. Many years later, some wizards and witches noticed a small island existing around the same area of where Atlantis was said to have stood. Now, this island was far smaller than what the myth said of Atlantis' initial size. Uninhabited, some wizards and witches migrated to the island and claimed it as their own. This is how Atlantis today was a small island of a small population of completely wizards and witches.

A staff, however, does exist. It remains in England as an ancient artifact for historical purposes and academia. Nobody has been mentioned as using it, nor does anybody claimed to have known how to use it.

It lies deep within Gringotts when not in display.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry put down the paper when he was done reading. Jason Bones stood silently as Harry read, waiting for a comment or a dismissal.

"So you're saying you thinking Clarkson is attempting to rob something before he leaves?" asked Harry. "Something specific?"

"Yes, sir," said Jason. "Otherwise he wouldn't have any reason to remain here."

"And you suspect this object," said Harry, looking back at the paper, "this... staff, it is what he seeks?"

"Yes, sir," said Jason.

"A staff, which this legend says had enough power to sink an island?" continued Harry, his scepticism only growing.

"Yes sir," said Jason.

"A staff which nobody has been able to utilize since being found," said Harry. "If that is actually the staff."

"Some think it is," said Jason.

"Yeah, like I'd trust the goblins to be honest on this," said Harry. "What, was Excalibur not close enough? He couldn't find the stone to pull it out of?"

"They're not the same," said Jason.

"Come again?" asked Harry.

"He's saying," said Ron, "the Sword in the Stone was not Excalibur."

"Nonsense," said Harry. "They're one and the same."

"I thought muggles knew of Arthur," said Ron. "This is sad."

"Excalibur was the bleedin sword Arthur pulled out of the stone," said Harry, defiantly.

"Excalibur was given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake," said Ron. "I know we slept through History of Magic but for the love of Merlin..."

"Preposterous!" said Harry, getting to his feet and-

"Sir," said Jason, cutting into the discussion. "Forgive me, but to the point at hand, perhaps?"

"Yes, yes," said Harry sheepishly, as he sat back down. "We don't know if it's effective, nor if it's the real staff. You know how people are like. Someone claims to have Merlin's teacup, another person claims to have Ravenclaw's night-time slippers."

"Or a shard of the Philosopher's Stone," chimed in Ron.

"How do we know it's real?" said Harry. "Is there any expert we can ask?"

"Well," said Jason. "The quickest way would be..." His voice trailed off.

"Really?" said Harry. "It's bad enough we're swamped with work, you want to add a trip to it? You'll go?"

"Sir, I won't have enough authority to quickly find anyone who'd know," said Jason. "You'd have to come, as head of a department they won't dismiss you that easily. Not to mention being... well, _you_."

"Well, you're coming for sure," said Harry. "I'm not letting you avoid it, this being your harebrained idea."

"Yes, sir."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ted waved Harry over when he saw him at the door. Victoire was seated beside him, Hugo across from him and Rose down the rather huge table. Harry sat down in between Dominique and Roxanne.

"When you said everyone was here," said Harry, "you meant almost everyone."

"When I heard Uncle Harry was finally going out with us," said Dominique. "I'd cancel my own wedding to show up."

"Obviously, I'd be invited to the wedding so this wouldn't count," said Harry, grinning at her. "But if you're speaking of wedding, your relationship must be going strong, then, with... erm what's-his-name?"

"We broke up a year ago, Uncle Harry," said Dominique, slapping her uncle's arm in mock anger. "I thought you were the cool uncle who paid attention."

"Sorry, Dom," said Harry. "Too many kids, I struggle to remember your names, much less whose beds your bouncing."

The whole table groaned.

"Oh come on," said Hugo. "Mental images, Uncle Harry."

"But if you're going to ask our love-lives," said Roxanne. "What about yours Uncle-"

She never finished the sentence because at that moment the whole table became tense at the very personal question of Roxanne. Nobody knew if she picked up on the tension which interrupted her. More likely the garlic bread tossed all the way from the other side of the table from Rose, which hit Roxanne right on her cheek, shut her up.

"Doesn't the food fight normally start when one of you decides to say something controversial or something?" said Harry. "Don't worry, kids, ask away. If I don't want to answer, I'll just tell you."

"Okay then," said Roxanne, indignantly as she glared at her cousins as she was unsure who exactly tossed the bread at her, "how are things with you? How's Uncle Ron's election going? You and Uncle Percy gotten in a fight yet?"

"We had our third yesterday," said Harry, chuckling. "But that wasn't what you were asking was it?"

Roxanne hesitated before speaking. Rose was glaring at her, everyone understanding Rose was almost daring Roxanne to persist with that questioning. Harry's encouraging smile though emboldened Roxanne to ask. Harry stifled a grin as he noticed every nephew and niece of his at the table, including Rose, were leaning forward in anticipation.

"Since you asked us," said Roxanne, speaking slowly and flinching for a second almost anticipating flying bread, "has anything been... you know... going on with you?"

"No," said Harry, who to his horror (and deep affection to his nephews and nieces to which he always was elaborate in his responses to) felt his mouth continue to move before he realised his next words were, "not exactly."

The other occupants on the table stared. Rose dropped the garlic bread that was in her grasp. Harry looked at them, not knowing what to say or why he said it. He elected to not risk saying something else, and remaining quiet.

"Hold it," said Ted, the only one brave enough to speak then, being a slightly different relationship with Harry. "Hold it. Wha-?"

The next few words weren't said, with Ted seemingly unable to form the words. But the point was loud as it was.

"It's nothing," said Harry. "Something came up suddenly, but nothing'll come from it."

"Why?" said Rose, getting suddenly protective in voice. "You got rejected? Who would be so stu-?"

"Please, for the love of Merlin, don't finish that sentence," said Harry. "No, it wasn't like that. It wasn't appropriate, and the fault was mine. I just suddenly acted, even though I never gave any thought to it before that. It was a moment."

"So..." said Victoire, grinning mischievously. "Were beds... bouncing?"

The groans were even louder this time, peppered with 'what the hell?!', 'what's wrong with you?', '...our uncle!' and Dominique cursing in French.

"No," said Harry, cutting into the glares and groans. "Nothing like that. Just a moment where I acted, and then I realised and pulled away and left."

"You left this lady hanging?" asked Roxanne. "That's cold, Uncle Harry."

"No I didn't," said Harry. "I apologised and said I shouldn't have done that, and then we parted ways, I guess."

The table was silent. There wasn't anything they knew to say, and also the waiters were around bringing their orders to them. Apart from 'thank you' there wasn't a word said while the food was placed on the table. When the waiters left, they remained quiet for awhile longer until Ted finally broke it by speaking.

"It's not betraying them if you decide to move on," he said to his godfather.

Harry looked at him, not sure what to say. The first instinct was to ask him how he'd ever know that, but he suppressed it quickly remembering Ted had lost his parents around the same age as Harry lost his. Harry looked at his food intently, his quietness and stiffness something his relatives didn't want to bother.

Still looking hard at his food, he opened his mouth and said, as softly as could be, "Then why does it feel like that?"

Harry then looked up, and seeing the concerned looks from the children of his late wife's brothers, shook his head and smiled.

"Too much dark conversation," he said. "Let's eat. What the hell did you order, Roxanne? That thing looks like it sunk ships when it was alive."

Roxanne stuck her tongue out at her uncle, and laughed. The rest of the dinner continued on in that light-hearted fashion.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: A reviewer asks if Harry loses everyone closest to him, how does he still have friends? Well, I guess we're looking at it from different angles. I think after marrying and having children Ginny and the three kids are now the only people Harry would consider _closest_ to him. Hermione, Ron etc... are close, but I wouldn't use 'closest'.

Semantics, perhaps, but I didn't want to straight out say he lost his family in the summary as I did want the first chapter to be read without an anticipation of what exactly was going to happen.

* * *

**Chapter 19  
Atlantis Visited**

Hermione was going through mail that morning. From a small stack, which grew due to a forgetful neglect these past few days, one letter got her interest. She had difficulty reading her friend's complaints about her daughter being mislead by a man as her thoughts kept coming back to Harry.

And Ron.

For years the whispers fanned through the school like a forest fire during a scorchingly dry and hot summer about her friendship with The-Boy-Who-Lived and the second youngest Weasley. People thought she was with either of them, with both of them, but rarely did they assume she wasn't with either. Sure the likes of Parvati, Seamus, Dean, Justin, Ernie, Hannah... those who knew them the slightest accepted the close and tight-knit friendship of the trio as fact, but the ones who only saw them in the corridor, their thoughts would go to the obscenely silly. Assumptions of Ron and Harry not speaking during the beginning of the Triwizard tournament did include some who thought it was a romantic spat where each male was trying to win her favour.

But after all that, after marriages and kids and divorce, they actually fell into this unusual situation. She was in a right pickle.

A small envelope, which had escaped her attention as she went through the stack, slipped from her fingers. Picking it up, she quickly recognised the handwriting.

_Dear Hermione_

_This might sound sudden, but would you be so kind as to come with me tonight? _  
_Assuming, of course, you are not pre-engaged already tonight._

_Respond to me, and I'll give you the details if you answer in the affirmative._

_With affection,_  
_Harry_

She smiled at his attempt of formal speech. Instead of 'reply, and I'll tell you where if yes' that was far too stiff for reading. Harry always fell into that kind of writing when he inadvertently showed his nervousness. She replied a quick 'yes, I'd like to' and sent it by owl.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry and Jason Bones touched down on an island in the Atlantic Ocean. The Portkey took them inland, but even then the moment Harry appeared he saw the beautiful coast lay before him a few miles further down. A soft breeze swept the air around them, and he slowly breathed in the sea air and let it fill his lungs.

"Ready, sit?" said Jason, breaking into his thoughts.

Harry opened his eyes, nodded, and took out his broom. Jason was already ready to fly. They needed the brooms because the island of Atlantis, in their infinite paranoia, outlawed anybody from using a portkey into the island. Apparating too wasn't strictly allowed, but more difficult to enforce. However, as neither Harry nor Jason had ever stepped foot on the island, it was very difficult if not impossible to apparate there considering visualising a location to go to that one couldn't make a visual of.

"I bloody hate this bit," said Jason, darkly.

"What?" said Harry. "The lovely flying over the ocean? Needlessly I may add? This was your idea."

'Doesn't mean this part makes sense, sir," said Jason. "It's always dangerous flying over the sea, especially when only with one other."

"It's dangerous flying over land too," said Harry.

"Noted," said Jason. "Shall we go, sir?"

"Let's."

As they flew, Harry had time to think and his mind went in a few directions. His letter was responded to quickly enough, which was exactly as Hermione always would do. He actually hadn't decided what to do, assuming that Hermione would politely decline and he would think no longer on the matter after a failed attempt. He didn't really think he would no longer consider it if it didn't work, but it was an act of hope.

That night did proceed okay, Harry thought. Well, admittedly it did get somewhat vague where Harry wasn't sure what he thought of at the moment. But-

"Sir," said Jason, breaking into his thoughts. "We're entering Atlantean airspace."

"Keep an eye out," said Harry. "We've got authorisation, but you never know with these paranoid guards. All it takes is one startled guard with an shaky grip of his wand..."

"Yes, sir," said Jason.

They faced no problems in the air, but the moment they touched down, they were questioned regarding their entry to the island by a group of wizard guards. Questioned for over an hour, despite Harry's annoyance considering they were carrying the proper paperwork, they were then allowed to go through.

Go through to the next round of irritation for Harry, that is a 'minder' following Harry in every direction he went. The number of times the words 'you don't have the authorization to go there' was said must've reached nearly a hundred before sunset. They were the only words the minder even said.

Harry sighed furiously. "Do you mean," he said, his voice dripping with disdain, "that I can't even visit the museum that may have information about it? A bloody museum is out of bounds?"

"The museum isn't," said the minder. "But you can't go in without the minister giving you further approval."

"Well, then," said Harry, brushing his arms off even though there wasn't any dust, so frustrated he was that he needed to do anything to prevent him from decking the minder. "Let's go to the minister."

The Minister for Foreign Affairs had a lovely office near the coast, and was not the least bit hesitant in flaunting it. Nor was he hesitant for flattery.

"Mr. Potter," he said warmly as he strode over towards them with open arms. He shook hands with the both of them wearing a wide smile. "Welcome to the island of Atlantis."

"Thank you," said Harry.

"Have you managed to taste any of the local delicacies yet?" said the Minister. "We do take pride in unique flavours you won't taste anywhere else."

"No, not yet," said Harry. "We may not have the time for that."

"Time? Nonsense," scoffed the Minister. "Why don't we have a meeting over lunch? In fact, that's what we shall do."

"I must decline," said Harry. "We wish to speak about sensitive issues, and a restaurant is hardly the most private of locations."

"Perhaps in London," said the Minister. "Surely, you have private rooms in restaurants. Come, come, you must come with me."

Jason looked over to Harry for guidance over this, but Harry only nodded his head and made way to follow the Minister. The Minister did not speak to Jason, nor did Jason speak.

As they sat in the their table, waiting for their orders to arrive, Harry didn't waste time and spoke.

"Forgive me," he said. "I must get to the point."

"Go on," said the Minister, with a wave.

"We have been led to believe," began Harry, "that Hercule Clarkson is attempting to steal an ancient artifact. An artifact that was formed in the island... well the island that lay on this waters before."

Harry paused, waiting for a response. The Minister didn't speak, but showed every indication he was listening.

"We believe he wishes to take the staff that resides in Gringotts," said Harry.

Still silence.

"A staff that was said to have sunk the island," continued Harry. That got a response, finally.

"You believe that this staff sunk an island?" asked the Minister, his voice giving no hint of what his thoughts were.

Harry didn't speak immediately, not knowing how to approach this. He couldn't say he thought the story mere fantasy, as he's be asked what would've been the point of travelling all the way here. At this point Jason, who was almost forgotten, spoke up.

"It doesn't matter what Mr. Potter here thinks," said Jason. "What matters is what Clarkson thinks. What you think."

"I won't get into stories about mysterious objects," said the Minister. "I'm surprised you are giving the slightest bit of thought to such matters."

"Again, we need to know if this is something Clarkson would believe," said Harry.

"Why don't you ask him?" asked the Minister, a slight contempt coming upon his voice.

"For one, Minister, he wouldn't tell us now would he?" said Harry. "And two, we don't have him in custody right now."

"Ah, perhaps that's something you should get to doing soon enough," said the Minister.

"If your authorities had managed this," said Harry. "We wouldn't have this situation to begin with."

"I hope you did not travel all this way to insult us, Mr. Potter," said the Minister, his voice cooling with every word. "You had him in custody, we requested you send him back to here to face justice. Your country delayed and waffled about, with you advising not to return him to us. Once you delayed enough, you allowed him to escape."

"And I hope I didn't travel all this way to be treated like a fool," said Harry. "You claim this is a "story" but you are actively blocking us from doing even the most superficial of investigations. If this is merely untrue, why stop us from even entering a museum to check your sources?"

"Your nation and ours are not exactly friendly currently," said the Minister. "We see no reason to accommodate you into looking into our history and treasures when you have an object that belongs to us."

"Ah, so you acknowledge that this staff we speak of is Atlantean?" said Harry.

"I acknowledge nothing," said the Minister. "If your nation recognises it as Atlantean, then it must be in Atlantis. It could be a staff, it could be a fork used by farmers."

"I somewhat suspect that if this object was the latter, that you wouldn't have bother to request it's return," said Harry.

"Suspect what you wish," said the Minister, getting up to his feet. "If there is anything else you wish to ask...?"

"No," said Harry.

"Colossal waste of time this is, Bones," said Harry, after the Minister left. "We have more chance of finding fire-breathing flying gnomes than be allowed any sort of official space to look around."

"So we go back?" asked Jason.

Harry looked over his shoulder, to where the minder sat.

"We surely didn't come all this way to be held back by nuts who don't even realise if this is a staff that sunk an island before, that there's no reason that it wouldn't do the the same to our island," said Harry darkly. "Or theirs, should we be fortunate enough that Clarkson holds off using the staff until he's left our shores."

"So what do you mean, sir?" said Jason.

"We're going to have to do our own looking about," said Harry. "You are allowed to back out of this one, Bones."

"Wouldn't dream of that, sir," said Jason. "When?"

"After dark," said Harry. "Go to your room, and get some sleep."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

The ever so soft knock on his door was enough to wake Jason from his sleep. He got to his feet and silently reached the door in seconds. Harry entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

"Is it time?" asked Jason.

"Yes," said Harry. "The minder hasn't noticed I left my room. Get whatever stuff you brought and let's go."

They were out of the hotel in a few minutes, their swift walking taking them as quickly away from it as they could without drawing unwanted attention.

"Where shall we head to first, sir?" said Jason. "Neither of us has ever stepped foot on this island before."

"First, we need to leave the island," said Harry. "That, or give the impression we've left the island."

"I don't follow, sir," said Jason.

"Leave me that bit," said Harry. "After that, we'll go to anywhere they don't wish us to go. And the first to come to mind is the museum. Pretty odd they don't wish us to even view a museum, which is supposed to be open to the public."

With that they made their way back to the area they first landed on the island. Brooms in hand, they barely gave more than a glance to the guards there, and then kicked off the ground and flew off. Harry didn't say a word as they flew away from the island, and Jason followed him in that respect. After a period of time passed, Harry looking intently around him, despite it being pitch black, he suddenly stopped in mid-air and lit his wand with a whispered 'lumos' and waved the wand to indicate to Jason to stop. Jason flew to Harry's side and slowed to a stop.

"We've passed the island's magical barriers," said Harry. "It's a bit paranoid, but the air is thick with barriers that seem to look for anything using magic."

"So what do we do?" said Jason.

"We have to come back in," said Harry, "but without magic."

"Without magic, sir?" asked Jason, incredulously looking down at his broom. "How in the blazes-?"

"It's not that confusing, Bones," said Harry as he pointed his broom downwards and flew.

Jason followed Harry as he made his way closer to the waves beneath them. Harry stopped a few feet above the waves. The waters were aggressive in their movements that night, with a harsh wind blowing about them. Harry took his wand out and-

"Wait, wait, wait," said Jason, raising his hands.

"What?" said Harry, holding his wand aloft and looking at Jason.

"You just said, no magic," said Jason.

"I said we can't enter with magic," said Harry. "I didn't say we can't use magic to achieve that."

He waved his wand, and a boat appeared from the water. Jason admired the handiwork. Sure it was doable, but the speed it was done was the impressive bit.

"Transfiguration of the water?" he asked. "Or Charms?"

"Too long to explain right now," said Harry. "Let's get on."

Jason had no delight in the fact they had to row their way in.

"It's just a short distance we have to row to go through the barrier," said Harry. "Afterwards, we'll use the brooms."

"Why couldn't you just enchant a motor or whatever the muggles call it," muttered Jason, but Harry heard.

"Too difficult magic for me, with this short period of time, making a machine," said Harry. "Oh, come on, with that physique you're complaining about physical effort, Bones? Row, row."

Jason couldn't tell when they passes the barrier, watching Harry through the beads of sweat that occasionally went on his eyes which he had to rubbed off. he continued to row nonetheless, and was breathing heavily enough that he wasn't able to speak to ask if they were getting any closer.

After some time, Harry finally raised his hand.

"I think we've passed the last of them, or it," said Harry. "Can't tell if it was many barriers, or one large one. Either way, I think we're in Atlantis proper."

"So we can just use magic, and they won't know?" asked Jason, looking unsure.

"It's far too difficult to attempt to monitor every piece of magic in a whole population," said Harry. "Especially a 100% magical population. No, all they can do is monitor who is coming in. We'll use our brooms, and hopefully the dark night will obscure us from being seen."

"It's not going to be easy," said Jason. "We cannot be identified."

"No we can't," said Harry in agreement.

"How will we leave the island?" asked Jason.

"With the brooms," said Harry.

"You just said-,"

"I rather think such a paranoid nation would be far more concerned with who was entering than who was leaving," said Harry.

"Even then-"

"Even then what?" said Harry. "Even if they noticed something odd happening at a barrier, they'd need to send someone to go and check it out. By the time someone reaches there, they have no idea in which direction we left. No, as long as someone isn't following us on our exit, we'll be fine. That is the difficult bit, not to be seen. And if seen, we must not be identified nor followed."

"They'll still suspect us," said Jason.

"Naturally," said Harry. "But they won't be able to prove anything. They saw us leave, these sorts of nations will note when and who left if using the official channels. How can they prove we came back in, to leave again?"

"Hence why we must not be identified," said Jason, nodding.

Harry tapped his nose. They got on their brooms and flew off, Jason following Harry. A short distance from the museum, they circled the air first to check if there were any guards in the location below them, and upon finding it was clear for now, they descended to the ground, and hopped off the broom. They each took out their bag and were able to put their broomsticks in their respective bag due to the extension charms on the bag.

"No wand lighting spells," ordered Harry in a whisper. "We're going in the dark, unless you have no other choice."

Jason nodded.

A pale, almost full moon stood high above the two of them as the walked as silently near the foliage surrounding the impressive building. Jason was about to move across a path to the bushes on the other side when he felt his shoulder violently pulled back. He turned to Harry, and saw his superior point to his own eyes and then point down the path. Upon looking hard, Jason noticed the faint outline of a guard walking down his patrol. A cloud had obscured the moon and the extra layer of darkness had Jason miss him. Jason nodded his thanks to Harry, and they waited until the guard passed them.

They then moved on and continued towards a side wall. Upon reaching the wall, they stopped and considered how to approach the matter. Harry quickly ruled out trying to use the main front doors as he was planning of using them as their escape route. He looked at the wall and considered trying to make a hole large enough for them to go through. No, the magic would be too loud to remained unnoticed.

He looked up and saw a window above them, too high for any of them to reach it without assistance. He pointed it out to Jason, who quickly understood and rummaged through his bag to take out his broom. In the meantime, Harry tried to observe the magical defences of the museum.

There were the usual barriers, but nothing sophisticated like you'd see in a bank or government building. Then why were they so adamant that he and Jason couldn't enter the building? Perhaps there wasn't anything sensitive inside, but they didn't wish to provide any information to Harry and Jason out of some determined stance to keep island secrets within.

By that moment Jason had managed to open the window, seated on his broom, and went in. Harry took out his broom, looked around to make sure there wasn't a guard nearby, and flew up. He didn't hesitate once in the air, though, to check if there were guards who could see him. The quicker he got into the building through the window, the less time he'd give anyone to spot him. He'd just have to hope the night was dark enough, despite the moon no longer concealed behind clouds, that nobody should be able to make their the moving speck in the air if they disappeared quickly into the museum.

Harry hopped off his broom, with Jason waiting for him. Jason waited for Harry to make a call, and Harry pointed to their left. He really picked a random direction, but was hoping to find a museum map so they could navigate much quicker.

They moved as fast as they could while remaining silent. Surrounding them lay historical artifacts, parchments, statues, paintings and so on from many parts of the world, muggle or wizarding. Only a few that Harry saw actually came from the sunken island of Atlantis, of which one was a large statue of Poseidon, a parchment with a written language Harry had never seen before, as well as a painting from a mountain-top viewpoint.

Harry was waved over by Jason, who pointed at a map. Harry's eyes spotted a mention of a staff in the other side of the museum - *sigh* which can't they ever just accidentally drop in the right part of a building for once? They moved again, but this time with purpose and direction, and they managed to move through with speed. They were aided by the fact they only saw one guard on their way there. Harry didn't stop to question such blessings.

They finally reached where the map pointed at, and they found an empty pedestal with a small plaque which read

_The Atlantean staff, which is believed to the staff used which caused the sinking of the island millenia ago. It was found three hundred years ago by a fishing ship and was held in the island for two hundred years. For a time within that period it stood here in this very museum. However, it was stolen by bandits and disappeared for many decades. It reappeared a few decades ago in England in the Magical Museum of History. The English have refused for years to return the staff to their rightful owners, however we have been unable to examine the staff to authenticate it._

_The staff has never been used since the sinking of the island. While many have, wisely, refused to even attempt to cast a spell with an artifact believed to have destroyed an entire civilisation, the ones who tried have had no success, and the dejected claims have led to rumours of this being a fake. Experts believe that magical objects do tend to go dormant if unused for long periods of time, and even when someone manages to activate them, it can take a certain amount of spell casting or enchantments produced to get the object back to full power. If it even is possible any longer to reach full potential of the object._

_It is, though, the express opinion of many magical experts that there is no way to disprove the staff's origin and as such any attempt to utilise the staff is strictly not advised. A few inhabitants claim to know the way to unlock the power within the staff, but whether this is bluster or truth has not been proven. History already tells us of the devastating effect that the staff has already had, to attempt again with such a dire warning would be inviting destruction upon us all._

Harry and Jason read through it, and then Jason looked to Harry for further instruction. Harry pointed at the door, indicating it was time to leave.

As Harry walked down the corridor, he managed to trigger a barrier or something, because suddenly the entire building, which was previously as dark as the barren night, lit up with flames erupting from all the lamps hanging above them. They stumbled backwards at the sudden glare of the bright light upon their widened pupils suited for the dark.

Harry, his eyes still squinting, shoved Jason.

"Come on," he roared. "We must leave before being seen."

Jason had a sudden idea to enchant pieces of cloth masks. He tossed one to Harry and put his over his head and face.

"Why the bleedin hell didn't we think of this before?" Harry said, shaking his head.

Jason rushed down the corridor, the door exiting the building visible now. He moved around a statue -

And was pulled back sharply right before a blue spell rushed across him ahead of him.

"Watch your surroundings," said Harry.

In front of them stood four guards. Harry pointed at which two Jason was to take on. He then rushed towards his two. The guards, however, weren't too obliged to do what Harry planned, and three of the four moved to take on Harry, leaving one to attack Jason.

Harry dodged one of the killing curses thrown at him - they weren't fooling around he noted angrily - and dived to the other side of one of them, keeping one guard between him and the other two. He levitated a table and threw it towards the group, but they quickly destroyed the table in the air. During that, Harry had managed to reach a pillar. He threw a spell over his shoulder as he ran, but it didn't hit a target.

Meanwhile, Jason was having particular trouble with his lone attacker. The attacker's style was slow but very effective defensively, swiping away all of Jasons attempts up to that point. Jason was also being pushed back hard and had his back to a pillar. He cast a fire spell in front of him, which had flames whooshing form the ground blocking him from the attacked, to give himself a moment to catch his breath. However, the opponent had dealt with this fire far quicker than he hoped for. _Here we go_, he thought darkly to himself.

Harry was getting frustrated. The longer they kept battling, the more likely any avenue of escape would be blocked. He saw Jason slipping over some rubble and threw a curse at that opponent, then went back to his battle. The more he stood back, the more he opened himself as a target to three enemies, while unable to deal with all three simultaneously for too long. He decided to change tactics.

Jason covered his head at the dust and debris that descended from above. He got hit in the shoulder by a spell that knocked him back a few feet. Painfully rubbing his shoulder for a second, he threw a curse right back. He then decided to go at his opponent and suddenly sprang quickly forwards...

until he slipped. He hadn't noticed the ground before him as he jumped ahead, and his left foot got caught by something and he fell quickly. He didn't have time to swing his arm to defend himself as he watched his enemy point his wand towards him. While everything was going in lightning speed, from Jason's perspective at that moment everything felt like it was going in the slowest of motions. He shut his eyes, anticipating his loss.

Until he heard a loud bang, and a grunt ahead of him. Jason quickly opened his eyes and leapt to his feet. He saw his enemy on his knees, gasping with breath. He looked to his side and saw Harry fighting his three enemies, but Harry threw a look at him for a second. That look was an annoyed one, Jason could read, telling him to quickly wrap it up and help Harry out. Jason stunned the man without hesitation.

With Jason now assisting Harry, the odds were a bit more even. Harry decided to cast weaker curses more quickly, rather than his slower casting up to this point, one reason trying to ensure accuracy and the other being his mind occupied with defence against three opponents.

Harry flicked his wand upwards and a carpet on the floor flew upward. One of the opponents had a leg on it, and was tripped to the ground by the carpet being flung. The levitated carpet hung in the air, blocking the view of the other two guards from Harry and Jason, but Harry was quickest to act having anticipated this. He threw a number of curses rapidly at the carpet, and heard a thud as one of the guards was knocked down.

Jason turned his attention to the tripped guard and stunned him.

Finally, all that was left was one guard. Harry and Jason stood, cautious, and were considering what to-

The guard turned and ran for it. Jason couldn't help smile at that.

"Let's go!" ordered Harry. "We're loud enough for the island to hear."

They ran down the corridors, the dust in the air thick enough to make breathing difficult. They covered their mouths with hands, and finally reached the front door. The cold air of the night rushed into their lungs and welcomed.

"Get on the broom," ordered Harry, who already had his in his hands.

Jason obeyed and got on his. He flew after Harry and let Harry take the lead. Any hopes of them simply escaping in the air with little trouble vanished immediately as a host of people on brooms rose up behind them. Harry groaned. They would've been better off running on foot and using the darkness to cloak themselves. The clouds were parted from the moon and this time the fact they were remaining high in the air allowed them to be somewhat visible. They needed to quickly lose the tail of guards. Once they find themselves not followed, perhaps it would be difficult for the guards to decide which direction to search for them, even with the moonlight.

It took every ounce of Harry's remarkable skills with broomsticks to try to keep the guards' attentions on him, and not Jason, not to mention avoiding the stream of curses that were targeted towards him. He strained his arms as he yanked the broom in acute angles to spin and turn away from spells, he twisted his hips hard as he leaned in directions instantaneously to weave through the air with expert smoothness, his thighs burned as the broom's friction rubbed hard against it. The sweat on his forehead that didn't dripped off his eyebrows stung his eyes, his breathing grew ragged as he tired from the physical exertions. Jason tried to help, but he wasn't half as good on a broom.

Harry swerved in a different direction in a split second as he saw guards suddenly appear in front of him, barrelling towards him, with Jason changing course as well, much slower in his change. They were increasing in number. Harry knew they couldn't hold on much longer. They managed to leave the shore, cross the barriers and were flying over the ocean, but Harry had no idea how they would escape this chase. All they needed was a moment, one moment where they weren't seen, and they could escape in any direction and the guards would have little chance guessing where they went in the darkness. But so long as even one guard had their eyes on them at any moment, the other guards would know where to look for them.

Harry gasped a large breath, his chest aching as he didn't breathe for a few seconds as he navigated a particularly brutal turn, which involved him twisting where he was held up in the broom by his legs wrapped around the broomstick and his head pointed towards the ocean. He didn't have much more in him, and they didn't seem to be slowing. They continued to break further and further into the ocean, but the guards followed them. They couldn't apparate out in such a speed, nor could they just fall as the speed of the fall would be ridiculously fast to apparate in. No, they needed a desperate option. Harry didn't like it but he had no other thought of escape.

Harry pointed upwards and yanked hard at the head of the broomstick, pulling it towards himself. The broom pulled up and shot high up into the air. The guards dutifully followed. Higher they went, and so did the guards. Harry slowed slightly until Jason caught up with him. Harry didn't have a chance to explain his idea at that moment. Unlike what some believed, in the midst of the chase, when the heart pounds due to the adrenaline and the muscles are tight, and the brain only focused on the thought of escape, speaking rarely occurs, or is advisable. It was difficult to see as the cold air roughly blew into their eyes as they continued to fly upwards in increasing speeds. The guards surely had similar problems seeing as they tried to match their speeds.

So Harry did the next best thing to catch Jason's attention. As Harry unwrapped his entwined legs from the broom, he grabbed Jason by the younger man's shoulders and pulled him hard. Not expecting this, Jason released his grip on his broom in the shock and his broom continued to zoom upwards with Harry's.

The guards continued to fly upwards for a period of time, until a few of them noticed through their tears in their eyes that the brooms were now empty.

At that point however, Harry and Jason had escaped their vision for long enough, and as they looked down, they couldn't see the two. The guards quickly turned and flew downwards, but all they could find below them was the sight of the open expanse of the ocean and the harsh, loud sounds of the waves.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 20  
Dinner**

Ron was adjusting his cuffs, trying to get it to be just right. A few seconds afterwards, he'd adjust them again, thinking he could get them done better.

"For the love of Merlin and Morgana," growled Luna, who was standing a few feet away, "cut that out Ron! You're being interviewed, not sent to the gallows."

"It's just irritating me," said Ron, who continued to fidget as he spoke. "And who the bloody hell _loves_ Morgana?"

"You're only aware of one side," said Luna. "Powerful woman, back in that day? Of course stories would portray her as a villain, a seductress. Anyways, the reporter is here. Just relax."

Before Ron could say anything, the reporter took the seat in front of him.

"So," said Ron, when the interview was done. "How did I do?"

"Boring," said Luna.

Ron's face told his thoughts.

"But, boring isn't necessarily bad," she said. "Boring can mean reliable. Right now, no stupid answers was important."

"Is there anything else?" asked Ron. "I'm have a couple of things to do."

Upon being told that he did his part, Ron got up and left the room. As he walked down the road, his mind wandered to a few thoughts. His search for Clarkson was not proving very useful. Harry was leaving for Atlantis in a few hours with Bones to check things there. His thoughts then went to his ex-wife, where he still was battling furiously in his head on what he wanted. He missed her, and wasn't enjoying waking up in the morning alone, that loneliness that seemed to merely tumble on day after day. He still had serious doubts, however, if he really wanted to risk going through the same problems again. His heart said he was over it, and they wouldn't go down the same path as they had warning before. His mind said if it happened once it certainly could happen again.

Ron also hadn't had anyone to talk it over with lately. While initially Harry was a good person to sound the ideas to, lately he was rather non-committal in his comments and only seemed to let Ron do the talking.

Odd.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_A few days ago_

Hermione was in the restaurant earlier than the agreed meeting time, so she had time to sit there before Harry's arrival. Her thoughts moved about the same directions as before.

She saw Harry approach the table soon enough, and tried to mentally brace herself.

She needn't had to. Dinner went through well, but nothing particular stood out. It was almost exactly any dinner they had being friends all the years before.

As they walked out of the restaurant, however, she managed to clasp his hand with hers. They walked down a street silently for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts. They passed a few bars and restaurants, all muggle establishments. They night was cool, but not cold, the wind blowing but nothing to cause concern.

He pulled her hand that he was holding, suddenly, and she found herself bridging the gap between them. She was now facing him, their noses inches apart, and his eyes occupying all of her vision. He slowly leaned closer, and closer, and the lips finally met. His kissing was soft, tentative, almost unsure, and she responded similarly. She felt his hand move to hold the back of her neck and she allowed her grip of him to tighten.

She didn't know how long this went, until they finally parted. A small smile was on his face, and they continued to walk as if nothing had happened.

As they reached the point that each thought it was time to separate, they did so without any more displays of affection than a simple hug. However, a comment was thrown into the mood.

"I think Ron needs to be told before anything happens," said Hermione.

"I know," said Harry, sighing. "You must be a bundle of confusion."

"Yes," she said. "I was perfectly ignorant, until you told me Ron wanted to give things another go and now I'm..."

"Considering it?" said Harry.

"... feeling doubt," said Hermione.

"I'll step out of the way then," said Harry.

"What?" said Hermione.

"I'll step out of the way, if you and Ron have a chance at reconciling," said Harry.

"Your desire to self-sacrifice is noble most of the time," said Hermione. "Now it's just irritating."

"Come again?" said Harry.

"You don't get to decide that your feelings is any less than myself or Ron's," she said. "I'm a grown woman, and I'll decide based on what's best for me and least hurtful for others. For once think of your interests too."

"You've had a marriage and children," he said. "That's different."

"Yes, but there's a reason why the marriage failed," she said. "Just don't worry yourself in this area, you have your own issues to consider."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

The waves crashed all around them. Jason gasped as he forced his head above the water, but coughed harshly as water splashed into his wide-open mouth. Harry waved his wet wand about, and a small raft appeared around him. One would say raft, but it was actually a flat piece of wood that could barely hold the two of them. Jason didn't complain, any reason to get out of the water. It was a few minutes before he got the ability to talk.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" he said, as loud as he could with his chest still aching.

"No time to warn you," said Harry, looking around. "I think it worked."

"They'll be looking for us," said Jason. "Let's get going."

"Wait a moment," said Harry. "I have to get the direction right."

Harry waved his wand about, whispering words as he did so.

"Why don't we apparate out?" said Jason.

"We could try, but the distance to anywhere we recognise is far," said Harry. "More importantly, however, is the fact we're out of breath, cold and wet. I don't want to risk us not being concentrated enough and splinching ourselves over an ocean."

"So what are you doing now?" asked Jason, not entirely pleased with the answer.

"I prepared a tracking charm before we left London," said Harry. "I'm just activating it."

"So we wait?" said Jason.

"Yes," said Harry.

"What is the point of being wizards if this is the best we can do?" said Jason.

"One, I'm exhausted and wet. We don't have an emergency so why risk a splinching?" said Harry. "Two, we have no idea if the Atlanteans are nearby still searching us, and if any serious use of magic could alert them to us. We need to risk the tracking charm, but otherwise nothing more. Three, it'll only be an hour or two before someone from the ministry sends us a portkey or something."

"We should've made a portkey," said Jason.

"I didn't really expect that much of a hassle," said Harry. "Besides, Atlantis has this anti-portkey laws remember?"

"Yet you had a tracking charm," said Jason.

"Standard procedure," said Harry. "We're not stupid."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ron opened his front door after hearing the knock.

"Harry," he said, leaving the door open as he went back into the living room. The words 'come in' wasn't even necessary for such a friend. Soon Harry was in and Ron tossed him a bottle to drink from.

"The campaign is going in a mess," said Ron. "Percy figures we started far too late. Name recognition is the only thing giving me even a slight chance. I mean we're not falling apart, but the frustration is getting to us. I'm not hopeful to be honest."

"Sorry about not doing more to help," said Harry, after taking a sip.

"Think nothing of it," said Ron, waving his hand. "You were doing work. How was Atlantis?"

"Ridiculously secretive," said Harry. "We managed to escape barely."

They continued some small chat, while Harry was trying to work up the courage to speak up.

"Ron, could I tell you something... erm, difficult?" asked Harry.

"Go on," said Ron, with a smile.

"I have gone on a date," said Harry, pausing as he didn't know where to go from there.

"Nice!" said Ron, his smile turning into a huge grin. "I wasn't expecting that, but that's great. Why are you looking so glum? I approve, if you're asking my brother-in-law role?"

"No, well I'm rather happy about that, though," said Harry. "It's more to do with whom."

"Who?" said Ron, who waited silently until Harry worked up the courage to speak.

"Um..." said Harry, loosening his collar, typically, "it's... Hermione."

Ron stood there, motionless to the point Harry wasn't sure if the words sunk. Then he folded his arms, but his facial expression didn't change. He kept looking at Harry and still remained silent as Harry fidgeted in his seat.

"You - what?" he said.

Harry just quietly looked at him. Ron now looked confused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He then sighed.

"What do you want me to say, Harry?" he asked finally.

"I don't follow," said Harry.

"If I get angry," said Ron. "And I want to get angry, I become the bad guy."

"Eh?"

"Finally, after years, you've stuck your head of your shell of sadness and looked about," said Ron. "If I get angry, I'm the git who's ruined a widower and a father of dead children from a chance of happiness. And if I show support, it'll be insincere. What do you want me to say, then?"

"Ron, I never want to do that," said Harry. "It happened without any warning."

"Any warning?" said Ron. "Of all the witches in Britain, no no I mean of all the witches and muggle women in Britain, you picked one of your two best friends, someone you knew since the age of eleven? Not to mention your other best friend's ex-wife?"

"I swear it wasn't deliberate, it just happened," said Harry. "If you don't approve, say the word and I'll never progress from this point."

"And then what...?" said Ron.

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"I say the word, and then what?" said Ron again. "You become that distant fellow who had his emotions hidden behind some invisibility cloak? That your nieces or nephews don't get to see the real you? That I'm the bastard that swiped a chance of you opening up again?"

"Ron, nobody would think that of you," said Harry. This wasn't an angle he had considered.

"_Everybody_ would think that, you git," said Ron. "So, so, many people miss you. I miss you. I would be furious with myself a few years down if you're still miserable. I wouldn't trade your happiness just so I could avoid the awkwardness... but I _told_ you I wanted to get her back. I told you!"

"I am so sorry," said Harry. "I never would want to do this to you, Ron."

"I know, Harry, I know," said Ron. "But this whole thing is ridiculous, with you having gotten Hermione interested in you."

"Wait, you bugger," said Harry. "Who said Hermione had any interest? All I said was a date."

"Even if you didn't say date, it's clear," said Ron. "If you hadn't gotten Hermione's interest, you both would've decided not to say anything and get back to simple friends. You would only come to me if there was something you wanted my blessing."

"So where do we stand?" said Harry. "How badly do you hate me?"

"You're still my friend," said Ron. "A colossal git, but still my friend."

"But..." said Harry.

"I'm not giving you my bloody blessing," said Ron. "I'm not going to tell you to stay away from a woman who divorced me, either. What happens will happen. Do whatever you think is right."

"So you're not deciding anything?" said Harry. "How Gryffindor of you."

"Shut up," said Ron, throwing a cushion at him. "You're even more cowardly putting me in this position."

"Me?" asked Harry. "You look like you could've gone to Hufflepuff."

"Better Hufflepuff, than Slytherin," said Ron. "Sorting Hat practically begged you to be Malfoy's room-mate. For shame."

The fireplace lit up suddenly, and Jason Bones' face appeared in it.

"Get yourselves to Gringotts, now," he said, his face blackened with dust and smoke. "You too, Potter."

"What the bloody hell is going on there?" said Harry, getting to his feet. "You look like you just escaped from someone trying to barbeque you."

"Clarkson's hit Gringotts again," said Jason. "He brought some distractions."

"Like what?" scoffed Ron. "That place has _dragons_."

"Well, somehow managing to transport a herd of mountain trolls, for one," said Jason. "No time to talk, get your arses here!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry and Ron ran into Gringotts, and walked into a warzone. This time, it seemed like Clarkson nor the goblins were holding anything back. Goblins were notorious for their tactics when attacked; they considered any sign of weakness would ruin people's trust in the bank, hence the numerous defences they put up. And now they let a few dragons loose.

"Seal the doors!" yelled Harry. "Make sure no dragon reaches the alley."

"You think we didn't already consider that?" said Jason who reached them. "Come on, the fight's a few levels down."

They followed him and went lower, passing a river of destruction as they moved. The passed vaults and cart-tracks, they passed goblins who were regrouping only to run back to the fight, and they passed fallen wizards, witches and goblins. As they turned a corner, they didn't have any warning for what they were going to see. A horde of mountain trolls roamed about, perhaps thirty if not forty, swinging their massive clubs around without much thought. They didn't appear to have taken a side in particular, only against whoever was close enough to their club to swing at. A couple of dragons were seen, as well as the flames that were shot out. Flashes of brilliant light lit up the dark caverns due to the multitude of spells being cast around by the number of wizards and witches.

In short, it was complete pandemonium. It didn't take a genius to consider this was deliberate so the staff could be taken out without much notice.

Ron and Harry did not wait for any invitation and joined the fight.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 21  
Not Scared of Wizards, Dragons and Trolls**

Ron moved to his left to gain some cover, while Harry hopped over a fallen person to head a few feet down for his cover spot. Jason went to tackle a troll. The next few minutes went in a blur.

The thing about being in a skirmish is frequently being unable to tell the bigger picture while fighting. Sure, you know where you are, and who is fighting you, but that generally is it. Who's winning the overall battle, if there's a bunch of reinforcements waiting behind the particularly tough wizard you're matching wands with... no, not so clear.

A troll swung its club and Harry ducked under it. He threw a curse at one of its feet. The troll howled a swung a punch at Harry, who thought he managed to dive away except for a small part of the troll's fist managing to connect with Harry's hip. A small part still was enough to knock the wind out of him. He staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. The troll raised its club and would have connected with him, since he momentarily didn't have the strength to even raise his wand, had four wizards and witches didn't pick that moment to spring into action against that particular troll. Harry stumbled to stand behind a pillar while he waited to catch his breath, and when he could mumble he applied as many spells on his trunk as he could in the short period of time. He knew he had to stop when he heard the rushing whoosh of fire sound louder and louder. Knowing he had little time, he ran away from the pillar, not looking back to see the spot he was in be covered in flames.

Ron wasn't wasting much time and moved towards a dragon. Well, before you go and roll your eyes, he wasn't stupid enough to try to fight a dragon alone in such a tight environment. No, what he did was try to catch the Common Welsh Green's attention with spells that let out bright lights and loud bangs, spells that were close to where a group of trolls stood. The characteristic narrow jet of fire shot right at the trolls soon after.

Troll skin is notoriously thick, and while it can certainly _not_ handle dragon fire directly, it can handle some heat. Hence, the three trolls standing right in the fire's path ended up burnt worse than a Seamus Finnigan experiment during school, the rest of them managed to amble their way out with only their skins smoking slightly.

Ron continued to throw spells, but this time directed them at the trolls. This tactic was slowly, and took awhile, but managed to move them back closer to the dragon, keeping the giant fire-breathing reptile distracted from wizards and witches, thankfully. The remaining group of trolls slammed their clubs on the dragon, which hurt it, but not enough to prevent it from breathing harsh fire around it and snapping it's teeth at the trolls.

Jason was ignoring every species but human in his determination to stop Clarkson or any of his men or women from gaining the staff. He found himself fortunate that spells cast at him missed as he didn't slow his pace in running down.

"That man is bloody mad," said Ron.

"Come on," said Harry. "He can't do it alone."

They rushed after him, keeping pace with one another. Harry kept an eye to his left and Ron to his right, and unlike Jason they would stop to deal with any obstacle that popped up their way.

"Look out!" yelled Ron, yanking Harry back by the sleeve. A blue light flew fast through where Harry was going.

"Thanks," said Harry, aiming his wand to where it came from. "_Stupefy_!"

"_Aguamenti_!" said Ron, a jet of water covering fire that was crackling near them.

"That's not enough," said Harry. "More, and this time aim it at that nasty looking dragon there. _Aguamenti_!"

They kept at it, until a large wave appeared when and slammed into the dragon, causing it to move away from them. A number of goblins stepped in and tried to subdue it. Harry and Ron moved on.

They found Jason soon enough, who was horribly outmatched in a fight.

"_Expelliarmus_," said Harry, disarming one of the opponents.

"Go on!" yelled Jason. "I'll deal with these guys. They're further down, nearer to the staff."

Harry and Ron, reluctantly especially regarding Ron, left him and moved on. They ran down a descending slope onwards and onwards, with the air becoming colder and the stalagmites (or were they stalactites?) were seen more and more. They ran down the cold and dark environment until they found what they were seeking.

A small group of wizards and witches stood around Clarkson. Clarkson, who was hold the staff.

"_Experlliarmus_!" yelled Ron.

"_Stupefy_!" yelled Harry.

Clarkson swung the staff, easily blocking the two spells at once. He raised the staff, and pointed at them and said something. Harry and Ron dove instinctively to their sides for cover.

But nothing happened.

Clarkson looked at the staff, and said something again.

Again, nothing.

He didn't try a third time, raising his wand instead and casting spells with it. His members joined in and sent a stream of curses and hexes their way. Harry and Ron didn't know how to approach them, only throwing back curses around the corner.

"They can't leave here with the staff!" roared Harry. "Fight dirty. No exceptions."

And they didn't let up. The ceiling above the Clarkson's group exploded and large debris fell upon them, which they tried to fight off with their own magic. Hexes and curses of all sorts were thrown at them, and the air became thick with dust almost to the extent that vision was limited.

Harry swung his wand, and the air cleared up a bit. Enough to see Clarkson and his people were no longer there.

Nor was the staff.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"Oh for the love of Merlin," said Ron, bitterly.

"How did they get away?" said Harry, shaking his head in disbelief. "A whole warzone of wizards and dragons and trolls. It's not even an exaggeration. Could he have apparated away?"

"With an ancient piece of magic that's said to be extremely powerful?" said Jason. "Nobody knows how these objects worked. The risk is if the object released magic when the apparation is made, augmenting it, and then who knows where he'd appear? It might send them to the ocean, or the moon if it's powerful enough."

"I _know_ that," said Harry. "But did he take that risk anyways?"

"No wizard is that stupid," said Ron. "I'd burn that piece of wood before risking apparating while holding it."

"That means one thing then," said Harry. "He hasn't left the island."

"How will he try to escape?" said Jason. "The airport?"

"To Atlantis?" said Harry incredulously. "No, he'll use a ship. Which means we have a few days at least to catch him in England."

"Do we have to?" asked Ron.

Harry looked at him.

"Please tell me that's rhetorical, because I'd just question your sanity," said Harry.

"Hear me out," said Ron. "This object is said to have sunk an island."

"Yes," said Harry, not sure where this was going.

"And Atlantis has been very unhelpful with us," said Ron. "In fact you had to fight your way out of that nut-house."

"So letting the island sink again makes sense?" said Harry, speaking slowly.

"What responsibility do we have?" said Ron. "If we try to fight him, he's shown he's not afraid of using the bloody thing. He'll sink us instead."

"Ron are you serious?" said Harry. "Lives in that island are at risk. So many of them..."

"Okay, okay," said Ron, raising his hand in defeat and sighing. "We'll fight a madman hell bent on using objects far too powerful for any one of us to handle."

"So why didn't the staff work?" asked Jason. "Doesn't it mean it was fake?"

"It's been centuries since anyone even tried to use it, if not millenia," said Harry. "Goblins sure as hell didn't try, staffs are not their style. Ancient objects have been recorded to need one to take some time trying to expend some magic before it reaches it's true potential."

"That doesn't mean it won't work at all until then," said Ron, sadly. "That would only be too easy for us. It'll make some regular magic first, like any other wand, then some really powerful magic and then... step back boys."

"That means..." said Jason.

"The earlier we find Clarkson," said Harry, darkly, "the easier the confrontation will be. For us."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry moved about his house, numb to the aches in his muscles and bones due to the stream of thoughts that blurred in his head. He couldn't understand how they failed to stop the staff from being taken. They were warned by a prior attempt, and yet they still managed to mess this up. He slammed his cup down a bit harder than he intended to, and along with the slosh of water that hit his shirt, a piece of glass chipped off from the bottom of it. He sighed as he threw the broken cup into the trashcan. As he was changing his shirt, he heard his doorbell ring.

Opening the door, he saw Hermione standing there. Without waiting for an invitation she walked in, but to be honest Ron or her never needed one.

"I just heard," she said, her back to him but he could hear the agitation in her voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there with Ron and you. I was at a meeting with a French government official, and by the time we were done, I heard about what happened. I found Ron still at the Ministry, and after talking to him, I had to then see you."

Harry kept quiet. When Hermione was struck by bad news, a stream of consciousness sometimes followed. Best let her let her thoughts come out, he and Ron always believed.

"It must've been awful," she said, turning around and hopping onto his couch. "And then the fact that they managed to get the staff? Horrifying, if the myth is true."

"We'll have to assume it is," said Harry, moving towards the chair. "No point underestimating it and then being tragically surprised."

"True, true," said Hermione, patting on the cushion beside her. Harry obeyed and sat beside her. "Are you hurt?"

"No, nothing major," said Harry.

Hermione looked suspiciously at Harry, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Is this hero-Harry talking?" she asked. "Should I take you to St Mungo's against your will?"

"No, no, I'm fine," said Harry. "_Honest_. I had some broken bones in my hip and a nasty bruise, but the healers that came to the scene afterwards patched my up then and there. I just need to sleep off the rest of the pain they said."

"That's good to hear," said Hermione. "How are things going with you?"

"Things are improving. Slow, but improving," said Harry. "I confess I've been rather resistant, but all this drama has been distracting me somewhat."

"Nothing makes me more pleased to hear," said Hermione, her hand brushing his arm. "You know me and Ron have been concerned."

"I know," said Harry, looking at the ground while sighing. "And I appreciate it, but I feel this is something I need to experience alone."

"We're here for you regardless," she said, placing her finger on his chin and pushing his head so he faced her. "I'm here for you."

Harry didn't know what to say, Hermione possibly didn't want to say anything else. She leaned towards him, as he remained motionless, and planted her lips on his. Tentative and soft her kisses began as he responded in equal manner, her hand move to the back of his head and she pulled him towards her. He was on top of her after a few seconds, and their kissing took more urgency than before.

His lips move to her cheeks and then to her neck, continuing to drop kisses on every spot he passed, and she leaned her head to offer more of her neck for him. She let out a soft sigh and he didn't stop. She wrapped her arms around his his back and held tightly as his lips went back to hers and she opened her lips and he quickly returned the favour. He unbuttoned the top two buttons on her and kissed his way to her chest.

They continued as such for a few minutes, until he slowed down, and then stopped. Sensing a change in his mood in the odd stop, she unwrapped her arms allowing him to lift himself off her and back into a seated position. She buttoned up what was undone and also sat up.

"Something tells me you don't want to take this to the bedroom," she said.

"No... I mean I want to," he said. "I mean, a part of me wants to..."

"And the other part?" she asked.

"Feels so, so guilty," he said, not looking her in the eye.

"I know it's going to be awkward with Ron," she said, but stopped upon seeing his face. "It's not about Ron, is it?"

"No, well yes a bit," he said.

"What is it about, then?" she asked, her eyes widening slightly as she worked it out. "It's about..." but she couldn't finish the question.

"Ginny," he whispered after a few seconds pause.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her face becoming incredibly red as she stuttered a few of the words. "I didn't think... I didn't think... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in this terrible position. I'm so, so..."

"Stop," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking it. "You did nothing wrong. I kissed you, remember?"

"But this must be so difficult for you," she said. "I didn't want to discuss it, well, because you never wanted to discuss it if you could avoid it to be honest."

"I just feel so," he said, swallowing softly, "so guilty. It feels wrong, the whole thing."

"Is it because I knew her?" she said, approaching the question with as much caution as approaching a hippogriff from behind. "Would you feel better being with a woman who never knew them?"

"I thought that at first," he said. "But no, it just feels like a betrayal. How can I move on?"

Hermione sat quietly, looking at him.

"I mean, how can I move on?" he asked again. "That was it, that was my life. Twenty years being with her, it feels so wrong to even consider anything else."

"But how come..."

"How come I kissed you, eh?" he asked, lowering his head and placing his hands on it. "It feels good, I cannot deny it. I want you. I have no idea how, where or when it happened, but all I know I want you. And it feels like a betrayal of everything I had with my wife. People want me to move on. What am I supposed to do, move on and do what? Get a wife, get kids? That's what I had. I can't replace that. I _don't want_ to replace them. I understood wanting to be alone, I understand being distant. But this? This feels like I forgotten them."

"Harry, you wouldn't be replacing them," Hermione said, earnestly. "If it feels weird being with someone you knew as the aunt of your children, I understand and I swear to God I'll never look at you in a non-platonic manner. But Ginny would not want you to sacrifice your happiness for the rest of your life."

"Hermione," he said, softly, so softly she had to lean forward to hear him better. "I have nightmares almost every time I sleep."

"How long?" she asked.

"Since after the funerals," he said. "I haven't felt happiness since they've left. I shouldn't."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I..." he paused, thinking what to say. "Everything feels normal not being happy. Misery I can get. But for the first time I felt good about myself when I kissed you... and it's wrong. It's so wrong. I'm going to be with them one day, I know it."

"Maybe one day you will be with them," she said. "But I knew Ginny. She would never ask you to be sad forever because she no longer was around. Being in misery is not a sign of your devotion to her or your children."

He didn't respond, so she repeated her words.

"Your devotion to them was proof of your love of them," she said. "That's it. You were an amazing husband, you were an amazing father. Ron and I would marvel at the brightness on you or Ginny's faces when the other entered the room. Almost two decades after being together, it never dimmed. You made her happy, in each of every day that passed. That's what you meant to her. Denying yourself any peace would not make her happy if she was capable of seeing you. It would've broken her heart to see you like this, just like it would've broken yours if you saw her in such a state."

"I still see their faces," he whispered, a tear on his left cheek moving slowly. "When I sleep, I sometimes see their faces. Even when it's remembering happier times, I can't not be hurt the moment I wake up and see the house empty. It'll be five years soon since that day, and it doesn't seem like I've improved."

"You have," she said, and then pushed his face to look at her again. "_You have_. It doesn't even feel long ago when you barely spoke to the rest of us. Now you are far more open and approachable. Yes, things haven't become back to normal, but they never will be perfect. You'll always have that pang in your heart if any of them come to mind. You know how I know that's normal? Because I get that pang from time to time. I notice Ron crying once in a while when something happens that has him recalling Ginny, or Lily, or Albus, or James."

"I didn't know..."

"Nor should you," she said. "You're improving, and don't think you haven't. If you feel like you need more time, then you need more time, that's all. But don't deny yourself from even getting in a better state. That's all I ask. Whatever time it takes, I'll wait."

"You will?" he said.

"If you want me to wait for you," she said, leaning forward and placing a soft and long kiss on his cheek. "I will."

"No," he said. "I can't ask you to wait."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he said. "I can't expect that of you. If one day I feel like I can move on in this manner with you, I will let you be the first to know. But I cannot ask you to wait."

"Sounds fair," she said, twisting her body and leaning her back onto Harry chest. "Until then... friends?"

"Only the best of friends," he said, wrapping his arms around her as he raised his feet onto the couch.

They remained in that position for the rest of the night as they slept.

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A/N: As always, please leave a review. Feedback and criticism is always appreciated for my desire to improve.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 22  
Field of a Dream**

Harry was sitting on a bench. He couldn't quite know how he got there, or actually where _there_ was. The bench stood beneath a large tree, on grass that was seen as far as the eye could see in all directions. The wind blowing was soft, and the rustles of the blades of grass was a soothing sound to hear. The sky was bright blue and only a few wispy clouds were seen. The air was light, the sun bright, and the whole environment devoid of any other person.

He remained seated on this wooden bench for a period of time. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. His every breath was more pleasing than the one preceding it. He shut his eyes, and with the sun bright enough there was that slightest red haze could be barely 'seen' with his eye closed.

He could've sat there for years if he could.

He thought he heard something, but then quickly dismissed it to his imagination. He was alone, what could he hear? He continued to breath in deep and slow breaths. The wind's brushing against the grass was gratefully listened to. He raised his hands and placed them behind his head. If only every day felt as good as this.

He stiffened, this time he did hear something. It sounded like... his name? He didn't want to open his eyes, but ever so reluctantly he did. He caught his breath for a second when he looked out.

Standing in front of him, dressed in white. He didn't understand what he was looking at. Don't get it wrong, he knew perfectly well what he was looking at. He just didn't _understand_ it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, smiling.

He didn't say anything.

"Not even a 'hello' for your wife?" she said.

"This isn't possible," said Harry. "It feels so real, but I must be dreaming."

"Well, I am standing in front of you," said Ginny. "Why ask if this is real? If you are dreaming, does that immediately mean it is not real?"

He got up from his seat, closed the distance between them in a number of long strides, and enveloped her in a hug. He squeezed as he lifted her off the ground. He lowered her to the ground.

"It's been so long," he said softly.

"I know, darling," she said. "I missed you."

"How could you? With you being..." said Harry, who didn't want to finish the sentence.

"Do you honestly think whereever I am," she said. "that I don't miss you with every little piece of me?"

"I... I... never thought of that," he said. "I feel so alone, Gin. Sometimes I just wish for an end."

"End? Of what?" she said.

"All this, everything really," he said. "Sometimes I just think it would've been better if I went with you. Sometimes I regret having the instinct to making the shield."

"Harry, love," she said, her smile disappearing. "It's understandable. But if you asked me at that moment if I wished any one of us survived, I would've said yes. I'm happy you're alive, Harry. Please believe me, we miss you, but don't think for one second any one of us thinks that it would've better if you perished with us."

"I know, it sounds weird," he said. "But there's nothing here for me."

"Nothing?" she said. "Harry, you have friends, you have people who love you."

"Not you. Not the children," said Harry. "That's what counts."

"Yes, but that's not all that counts," said Ginny.

She reached her hand up and wiped some of the tears on his face.

"Please don't cry," she whispered.

"It's that or doubt my sanity," he said, with a chuckle where the humor didn't extend to his eyes. "I haven't dreamt of you like this."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like this," he said. "_Talking_ to you. Holding you. I've had..."

"Nightmares?" she said. "I know."

"But this is good," he said. "I've seen you in dreams, but to talk to you... this is good."

"If only we could pick our dreams..." she said wistfully.

"I would never wake up again," he said, with such surety that she didn't need to ask him if he meant it.

"Don't say that," she said.

"I mean it," he said.

"I need you to live," she said, clasping her hands behind his and pulling him down close to her, so that their eyes were mere inches apart. "We need you to live."

"Live? For what?" he said. "Everything that made life what it was is gone. Everything that gave me meaning is gone."

"Don't say that," she repeated. "Don't let Albus, or James, or Lily hear that. Don't let me hear that. Do you think we want you not to live?"

"And do what?" he said, his voice cracking as his demeanour became agitated.

"That's not for us to say," she said, her eyes watering. "You survived that day. We love you whatever you decide."

He mumbled something. She shook him to make him speak up.

"I need more time, Gin," he said, the tears now streaming out of his eyes.

"Take it," she said.

"What?" he said.

"If you need more time, take it," said Ginny. "Honey, if you're not comfortable yet, don't rush in. But don't decide you'll never move on, that's not healthy."

"I can't just be with another woman," he said. "Just get other children. I can't replace you lot like that."

"You wouldn't be replacing us," she said. "You and I both know that."

"I don't want to forget you," he said. "It won't be fair. I would've traded places with any of you..."

"Hush," she said, placing a finger on his lips. "You think if any one of us survived instead, none of us would've wished we traded places with you? Harry, we gain no pleasure in you being miserable for the rest of your life. It is not only way to remember us, to show that you still love us. We would never ask that of you. Your happiness always made us happy."

"I would rather be with you and the children," he said, his voice dripping with sadness.

"As would I," she said. "We don't decide what happens, just what we do about it. You are alive, so you were meant to be alive. We love you and we miss you. We're waiting for you."

"And I'm waiting for that day I join you," he said, his forehead resting on hers.

"It'll come," she said. "But Harry, it doesn't matter what you do with your life. Whether you lock yourself in a room that nobody can enter, or if you open up again. It... doesn't... matter. We're still waiting for you. So please don't be miserable as a choice."

"I hear you..." he said and then paused.

"... but you're struggling to listen," said Ginny. "I know. I know. Just, think about it."

The wind stopped, the colour of grass became darker. The sky began to become filled with clouds, and the sun's brightness was diminishing.

"I think you're waking up," she said.

Harry's eyes widened. "I don't want to wake up just yet."

"Like you have a choice," she said, the soft smile returning. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you," he said, as he saw the environment around him turn dim and the colours begin to melt in one another. The lady in front of him became fuzzy and then disappeared along with the environment as everything became black.

His eyes flicked open. He was wrapped in blanket and in his bed. He turned to be on his back and stared at the ceiling. He could feel the pillow was wet, and touching the side of his face he could feel the tears on cheek. It took him a long time to get back to sleep, but his eagerness to was not met with another similar dream that night.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry sat quietly at a restaurant, eating alone. This was the first free time he had the past few days he had to himself, which didn't involve sleeping. The establishment was less an hour before closing, and it looked so inside, with the place almost devoid of customers. Harry was reading some parchments as he ate.

"Uncle Harry," said someone who sat in front of him. He looked up to see it was Marissa. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I just decided to pop in," said Harry. "And I didn't want to disturb you from work."

"Eh?" she said, looking around with the empty tables, an eyebrow raised. "What work exactly?"

"Okay," said Harry, relenting. "How are things?"

"Fine," she said. "But I should be asking you that."

"After almost five years, you don't need to ask that question every time we meet," said Harry.

"Uncle Harry, I'll always ask you that," she said. "There's no schedule to these things. Some people move on by five years, while others haven't in ten."

"I just wonder sometimes if I should be... you know, in a different frame of mind after a few years," he said.

"There isn't a 'should be', there is what you feel and how you feel it," she said. "But even then, you are progressing. You're more approachable, and I don't mean the polite friendliness which we saw for awhile. But Uncle Harry, you can't force yourself into how you think you're supposed to feel."

"Okay, okay," he said, sighing.

"How is that thing going?" she asked.

"What thing?" he said, though he had a feeling what she meant.

"You know," she said, slapping her uncle on his shoulder. "That erm... other woman? Did things change on that front? Or did you stay away thinking it was inappropriate, still?"

Her uncle was silent, and that was good enough for her. She whistled softly, and let out a couple of words in a foreign language.

"Victoire and Dominique probably should've started teaching normal French words before the swearing," he said.

"Don't change the subject, uncle," said Marissa. "You hesitated. Something happened."

"Well, let's say I found it more difficult to stay away," he said.

"Did she reciprocate?" she asked.

"Yes, yes she did," he said.

"Were beds...?" she said but her voice trailed off.

"No, no, no bouncing," he said. "I don't know how that term started, but I'm cutting that nephew or niece from a Christmas gift from me."

"Why didn't it?" she said, not letting the conversation be sidetracked.

"I couldn't," he said.

She gave a look at him. She opened her mouth, but shut it seemingly not knowing what to say.

"You... _couldn't_?" she asked.

"Oh bloody hell, Marissa, just how old do you think I am?" he said. "Not physically, you silly woman. Emotionally."

Her laugh was short as she thought of the serious part of his comment.

"You felt like you were doing something wrong?" she said.

"Yes, yes I did," he said.

"Nothing felt right?" she asked.

"Well, not nothing," he said. "I was tempted, but this guilty part of me thought I was doing something terribly wrong. I know, sounds crazy."

"No, Uncle Harry, it doesn't," she said. "People react differently to loss. Some move on quicker, some appear to move on but never do, and some just need more time."

"I know, but I think..." he said before being interrupted.

"Stop thinking, Uncle Harry," she said. "If it doesn't feel right, then wait. But if it does, go ahead. You're one of the greatest people I know, and more importantly you are one of the nicest. I trust you won't do something wrong, and perhaps you should trust yourself. When the time comes that it feels right, you'll know. Don't rush anything, but don't resist moving on as if that'd make you somehow more faithful."

"Someone else said something similar," he said, smiling slightly yet his demeanour was a bit down.

"Really," she said. "Who was the smart person."

Harry didn't have the heart to say it was his dead wife in a dream.

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A/N: Please review


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

* * *

**Chapter 23  
Acceptance**

Ron paced the room nervously. It was only two more days to the election, and things looked far too unsure to make a prediction. There were five candidates, and nobody was predicted to gain a majority of the vote. Ron wasn't hopeful of winning outright, but the plan was to gain as many votes to make him respectable enough to run again a few years down the line with more ease. The smaller the percentage the minister would lead by, should she win, would make her have less ability to attempt anything too controversial.

He didn't like this nonsense, however, considering some madman was running about Britain with a staff. He wanted to jump into the action. Harry assured him, however, that there was no action currently, only the searching about as wide as possible. Harry also assured him that this was no fun task, and should any action begin Ron would be the first contacted.

Speaking of the devil, Ron's mind returned to Harry. He hated, absolutely hated, the idea of Harry and Hermione together. Especially considering his intentions to trying to get back with her... perhaps only because he wanted to get back with her. Contrary to what Harry feared, Ron couldn't hate him for this. This wasn't something one controlled, believe him Ron knew that.

Ron never told anyone, but before he realised his feelings towards his female friend, he had actually thought Harry and her would end up as a couple. He only ended that thought when Harry went crazy over Cho Chang, only then did he start to subconsciously seem to indicate some interest in her... which she pointed out clear as day after the Yule Ball.

Strangely while Ron greatly didn't like the situation, he was confused as why he wasn't actually angry about it. Well, not confused exactly. Ron knew precisely why he wasn't angry, he found it rather unexpected. His heart ached at the pain Harry must've been going through, and he knew he would do anything to let his best friend progress.

"Dad," said a voice from the door. "How are you holding up?"

"Come on in Rose," he said. "Nothing's happened, so I'm just as fine as ever."

Rose entered the room, followed by Hugo.

"Is Uncle Harry going to stop by?" she asked.

"He said he will if he can, but on the night of the election," he replied. "How's mum?"

"She's fine," said Hugo. "She should be checking up on you today."

"Good, good," he said. "I was going to have lunch. Care to join me?"

"Sure, Dad," she said, with her brother nodding.

As Ron walked out of the room, his arms around the shoulder of his daughter and son, the two who generated more love from him than he could imagine - who he couldn't fathom for a single moment how utterly wretched his life would be if he lost one of them, forget both - he realised at that moment he had given his blessing. If a path to some happiness required Harry to be with Ron's ex-wife... then so be it.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"If I see the inside of another blasted boat or ship," said Harry, his voice thick with irritation, "I'll use the killing curse on myself."

"That was boat number thirty-two, sir," said Jason, his voice neutral. "Should we move on, or try something different?"

"This is haphazard," said Harry, frustrated. "We're not going to search randomly and fall upon Clarkson."

"What do you want done?" said Jason.

"Call off the search," said Harry. "We're going to have to think outside the box."

"Such as?" said Jason.

Rather than have the same questions repeated, we shall move on a few hours down the line.

"You want to do _what_?" asked the Minister for Magic.

Harry was seated in the Minister's office, and her mood wasn't improved by his idea.

"I want to use magical detectors in the air," he said.

"But not on broomsticks?" she said slowly.

"We don't have the manpower to cover the country with broomsticks," he said.

"Using muggle... _planes_ you called them?" she asked, her face showing she still wasn't sure if this whole thing was a joke or not.

"Yes, planes," he said, sighing that he had to repeat himself again. "Muggle airplanes. If planes can be fitted with a magical detector, the ones we use to detect underage magic can be adjusted to look for magical objects of immense power..."

"Let me stop you there. You want to leave magical objects in plain sight of muggles everywhere in the country?" asked the Minister incredulous. "Why don't we just rip up hundreds of years of magical secrecy and save ourselves the time?"

"Listen, we don't have much time," he said. "The more that object is used, the more it regains it's old power. It's sunk one island before... don't dismiss the idea of it happening again, here. We have no choice. It's secrecy or our entire homeland."

"Even if what you say is true," said the Minister, still unconvinced. "What does placing on a few planes mean about searching across the country?"

"Every day, Minister," said Harry, leaning forward, "literally thousands of planes fly across the country. Thousands. They almost cover the entire country. In one day."

"How will we fit them in without giving something away?" she said.

"That's why we have liasons with the muggles," he said. "A new security surveillance or research device... no muggle ever questions that out. A small object, placed on the bottom of the plane and _voila_... just give the word and we'll replicate the trackers to get things going."

The Minister was silent for a short while, but then waved her acquiescence.

"This is all on your head, Potter, if things go wrong," she said.

Harry nodded and left the room, shaking his head slowly. Things got dangerous and she was thinking about who would be apportioned blame if things went to Hades?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Ted was standing in front of a door. He knocked on the door. It was silent and nobody came to open it. He stood there waiting. Sometimes she took her sweet time, he thought to himself.

After a time where he couldn't just stand there much longer, he knocked on the door again. Louder.

"I said," said a voice from behind the door. The voice was faint, so the person was nowhere near the front door. "It's open, _come in_!"

He opened the door, still a bit startled, and it was indeed unlocked. He entered through and shut the door. He reached towards the switch, because the place was bloody dark save for a dim...

His hand stopped in midair. The dim light were of candles flickering in the air. He squinted his eyes, and as they adjusted to the change in light he noticed the ground wasn't clear. Rose petals were strewn on the ground, placed in a straight pattern which lead down to the living room. He obeyed silently. She liked to play her games... but he really didn't know where she was going with this one.

He walked onwards, cursing under his breath when his foot hit a corner of the wall. He didn't speak out loud, knowing full well he wasn't going to get a response. He finally reached a spot where a few candles were placed on a table. A small envelope stood against one candle. He opened it and read.

_Mon cheri Ted,_

_You words gave me alot to think about and I realised I cannot bear to think of life without you._

_Rather than wait, I want to ask you if you'd honour me by being with me for as long as we draw breath?_

_V._

Before he put down the letter, he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. He raised a hand and gave it a soft kiss. He turned around to see Victoire, in all her beauty which he adored, looking up to him with hopeful eyes.

"Well?" she said, expectantly, when he said nothing.

"Victoire," he said. "You know I love you. But have you really thought about this?"

"I'm asking," she said, confused and taking a step back from him. "So obviously I thought about it. What are _you_ thinking?"

"Well," he said. "We've gotten off and on together a bunch of times."

"And...?" she said, not liking the tone of his voice.

"Are you sure about us lasting?" he asked, looking down. "I mean, if we get married... we're aiming for permanent."

"I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't sure," she said, her happy expression now all but gone. "Do you not feel the same way about me?"

"I do," he said. "I just want to have the chance to think about it."

"Well go on, think," she said, this time tears were on her eyes. "Come back to me whenever you decide."

Making it clear to him that the conversation was over, she walked to her bedroom and shut the door. Ted didn't need to be told that he was expected to leave the apartment.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Harry opened his front door, exhausted, late that night. It required a large number of manpower to get the ball rolling, from a number of departments. But once everyone knew what was expected of them, Harry's bit so far was done. He could go home and wait as the people back in the Ministry kept an eye out for any anomalous readings of magical power.

Normally, with a wand for example, the Ministry's capabilities to detect magical usage were only when the object was used. However with ones of immense power, such as the staff, the object would leave residues after expended. Residues that could linger for hours. Considering only using the staff would bring it back to full power, Harry had little doubt Clarkson was not leaving the staff in the bottom of a box unattended.

An hour later, seated on the couch, Harry was flicking through channels, and stopped when he saw a familiar sight of football on the television. A team in white was playing, and he was about to do what he had done a few times before and immediately switch the channel.

This time, though, he held his hand over the remote, but hesitated.

"There's a cross coming in..." said the commentator, "and... is that a penalty? No matter, it's bundled into the net in the last minute and they've _done it_!"

Harry didn't realise he was smiling, with the image of his wife hopping about in delight at such a score. For, if you hadn't guessed it already, that was Ginny's team playing on the telly at that moment. He would always shake his head at her. Arthur Weasley's daughter indeed, her falling in love with the muggle sport of football.

His phone rang, and he saw it Hermione. He didn't pick it up. When he found himself falling into such thoughts, he would try his best to avoid any contact and just dwell in them.

He was rather conflicted at the moment. He hadn't felt the worst pangs of sadness in awhile, yet he felt the dim of loneliness continuing daily still. A part of him still resisted the idea of merely 'moving on'. It felt disrespectful, almost like he was forgetting his past. Forgetting... _them_.

But at the same time, he knew it wasn't healthy to just avoid the world. He knew they wouldn't want that for him. For the first time though, he was at least thinking in that line of thought. Normally he would mentally shut down any thought that even approached the idea.

Naturally, it didn't mean he'd just go on with his life as if a marriage of many, many years never happened. But it was more of not ignoring his life like it no longer mattered. That he play some role in the events around him, normal day-to-day moments, actually make an effort. He wasn't pleased that he was considering it, perhaps just relieved. He still hadn't felt any actual happiness in years but at least he managed to have moments where he wasn't frankly miserable.

He was tired of being miserable.

He was still troubled by the idea of moving on in a romantic sort of way. He wasn't sure if he ever would feel comfortable doing so.

* * *

A/N: For anyone who wondered, by 'football' I mean 'soccer'. They're British.


End file.
